The Mad Swordsman's Descent
by KG Entertainment Division
Summary: The gods gave Grand Gaia shape, gave people life, and all they ask is for proper respect and worship. Narza of La Veda understands this, but it makes him an outcast, for humans choose not to acknowledge the gods' great gift. But when he attracts the attention of two devilishly methodical goddesses, his world is shaken. Now it is his destiny to move heaven and earth in their service
1. The God's Blade

_**The Mad Swordsman's Descent: The God's Blade**_

_Author's Note: Good day and welcome dear readers! Today I shall be recounting the tale of the mad assassin Narza of the God's Army. Now, I don't think it needs to be said, but I'll do it anyway, Narza, he's a badass. As such, I wanted to bring more of this man's tale to the light, now, bear in mind that while in many respects I try to keep to the cannon established by Gumi, I do deviate sometimes into my own personal interpretations. Do feel free to leave any comments and criticism, I'm always looking to better my work. Please note that I am of course constantly forming ideas for new stories that may not necessarily be this one, each story shall follow a different unit and more will be released in each as the ideas come to me._

_*I of course do not own Brave Frontier, I bear the high reverence of Narza to the gods that created it though, Gumi*_

**...**

"Oh gods above, may you bless this humble knight, the willing vessel to your power, that I may use it to subdue those sinners among us who would speak your names in vain. I shall slay them for you, and you alone, and bring light back to their hearts, darkened by the foul seeds of hatred and deceit, Amen."

"Oh, Lucius' sake, can you just spare me the praying theatrics and be on with it! I've got somewhere to be and I'd prefer to get there this week!" Narza's silver eyes rose to those of the transgressor, he who spoke ill in the name of the gods. This archest of archers, a bodyguard to some princess or other from Vriksha. He drew his sword, clutching it reverently as he held it to the sky, once more beseeching the gods for aid in his duel, and then stood at the ready, both hands gripping the blade's hilt.

The archer immediately fired an arrow as he saw his opponent assume a ready stance, another on the string before the arrow had even sailed a foot. Narza's eyes narrowed in concentration, watching the arrow come at him almost pathetically slow, yet it was a pace so many wouldn't be able to follow, but so many didn't show his reverence to the gods. In a flash he brought his sword up, hacking the shaft apart in midair, without missing a beat he spun out of the way of the second arrow that came flying at him, turning and slicing that one clean in half as well. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, a sensation he'd long since associated as the gods warning him, he palmed his sword to his left hand, drawing it around himself and holding the blade flat against his back, he felt another arrow ding harmlessly off the steel. He spun again, so lightning fast that he still cleaved the arrow in half as it descended after hitting his sword.

Seeing one final arrow being released at him, he put his right foot forward, pulling his right sword arm back and launching his sword like a spear. It spun through the air towards the archer just as he released his last arrow, then watched with great big eyes at the blade rapidly approaching him. The sword struck the arrow point on point, and cleaved it in twine almost before it left the bowstring. His sword continued to travel, flying past the man's bow and catching his tunic right above the meat of his shoulder, pulling the archer back from the force behind it, pinning him to the old stone wall, he yelped in shock, his prized bow falling from between his fingers and clattering to the rough cobblestones below.

"And that, heathen, is why you do not disrespect the gods," Narza explained, placing an iron clad boot directly into the archer's chest for leverage as he yanked his sword out of the wall, the man slumping forward, painfully banging his head against the silver plated knee of the triumphant knight. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir…" The archer wheezed out, his lungs being crushed beneath the force behind the knight's leg.

"Yes what?" Narza demanded, digging his foot harshly into the man's gut.

"Yes I will no longer disrespect the gods!"

Narza's boot suddenly pulled back, the archer took a lungful of air, and promptly fell flat against the cobblestones, breaking his nose almost instantly. Narza looked up from the pathetic man, scanning the La Veda guard's training courtyard, seeing a number of them eyeing him angrily, apparently he'd been supposed to show any visitors La Vedan hospitality, but there was nothing for it, the archer had transgressed against the gods, and deserved punishment. He shrugged off the glares of his peers, sheathing his sword.

The old courtyard was pristine, smooth gray stone that glazed with frost in the winter so finely you could skate on it, test dummies lined nearly every visible wall, piles of straw and other stuffings strewn around them, and racks of all manner of weapons piled next to the dummies, from maces to bows to blades to hammers. Not that Narza needed any of it, his strength came from the gods, he had no need for practice, and the lifeless sacks of old oats and chafe had done nothing to insult his masters.

He felt eyes on him, a vein stand out under his left eye, this was no sign from the gods, no gods would've created this one. He turned slightly to peer over his shoulder at his fellow, a short man, went by the name of Will, Narza summoned all his willpower not to sneer at the sight of him, he spoke first.

"Can I help you sir? Perhaps I could direct you to the Coldstone Asylum?" Will faked a grin at the jest, just as irritated by Narza, though not nearly as tolerant.

"Well yes, for one you could explain to me just what in the hells you think you're doing to Lario? You do realize he's here protecting the royal emissary of the Vrikshan Principality?" As he spoke, Will clasped Lario's hand, hefting the fallen archer to his feet and sending him on his way, grumbling curses at Narza under his breath."Your actions could spell a declaration of war if you don't control yourself!" Narza glared at the knight for a moment, not caring enough to respond, wondering how Will had come to earn the shield he now bore on his left arm. It was emblazoned with the La Vedan emblem, the Wings of Lucius as it was often called, cast in gold upon a man who would cower to an archer who disgraced the very god their knighthood swore to defend. Will's dull teal hair was framed with a jagged crown of command, rising in two gold spikes at either side of his head, at its center a bright red jewel. A similar red jewel adorned his blue and gold breastplate, as well as the hilt of his triple pronged sword, which he gripped tightly in his right hand. The message was one all La Vedan knights were taught of their oath to Lucius; devotion in mind, devotion in heart, and devotion in blade.

He turned fully now, deciding to humor Will in his useless protests, glancing past Will's shoulder he saw, inevitably, the knight's lapdog, Aem. The boy's shoulder length brown hair billowed about him, unkempt. His cyan eyes showing only pure disdain for Narza, who could only grin, shaking his head slightly. The naive youth would follow Will to the gates of hell and back, Will could tell him that Narza was a god-slayer incarnate and Aem would probably believe him. Yet the pure, unmitigated hatred he displayed to the man that so repulsed his idol, it was...just adorable, Narza mused silently to himself. The knight seemed so very much like a schoolchild, small frame bundled up in practice protective pads over his knees and elbows, a bright red tunic beneath it sealing the image in his mind.

"You seem to be under the impression, my poor, little Will, that I answer first to the king, I will not cower before the petty royalty that comes before me seeking hospitality, if they cannot respect the power that governs them. They think themselves above the rule of the gods, and if they are so inclined, then I've no hospitality to offer, merely the embrace of my steel. Reverence to the gods, in mind, in heart, by blade, you'd do well to remember Will, that these are our obligations, before those of kings. And you, boy," he stopped finally, glaring at the trainee who'd thought himself unnoticed behind his master, "would do well to learn this yourself, if you're to be anything to the gods, or La Veda, besides a punching bag."

And with that word, Narza decided not to await a reply, simply turning and walking away, away from the drama developing in the courtyard, perhaps to the market. Aem made to follow him, shouldering past Will, but his idol's gloved hand stopped him, the snarl never left his lips.

"Hey Narza!" he yelled from his position, he felt the hand tighten around his shoulder, but he ignored it. Narza stiffened, so very tempted to keep walking, but some irritating sensation in the back of his head urged him to turn and hear the boy out, so he did.

"Yes lad?"

"Are you going to be at the tournament later?"

"Haha!" Narza chuckled, a slight grin playing over his handsome face,"I've no use for your petty tournament, if you all wish to compete to see who has the bigger sword, far be it from me to interrupt."

"You know Atro's going to be there?" Narza tensed at the mention of the name, his disdain for the the monk boy near equal to that which he held for Will. "Word is he's drawn Urias from the stone." That statement hung in the air, turning it stale and bitter in Narza's mouth, he should laugh, diffuse the false tension the idiot boy created, but something about the way he'd said it, about the way people looked up to the golden haired friar boy...perhaps he would pay a visit to the knights tournament after all…

"Hmm, and here I thought you liked the monk, but trying to egg me into joining your ridiculous tournament, why doom his legend before it can begin?" Silence hung in the air at this, Aem unable to muster a response, Narza laughed, a bit delayed, but it kept the same effect, he left the courtyard, a miffed pair of knights in his wake, glaring daggers at his back.

**...**

The market was veiled brightly in the silver light of the moon, it was quite lovely this time of the year, Narza had to admit. Those nights when the moon was so full in the sky that the world beneath seemed like day, those nights, were truly a gift. On this night, as Narza found himself wandering aimlessly through the assembled crowds of brightly dressed visitors, he spotted a peculiar sight. Thieves weren't uncommon in La Veda, in fact they could probably be called one of the city's most well known resources, but this one tonight, this one was different. The green shadow moved too quickly for any people to seem to pin him down, weaving in and out of booths, gracefully snatching coins, it flowed like water through the murky tides of people, chaos was a situation it thrived in, where most thieves in La Veda tried to impose themselves onto those they stole from, this one was content to go with the flow of things.

Narza contented himself with watching the thief work, his keen and quick eye able to track the distinctly green cloak easily in the crowd, but finally he drew away, seeking better entertainment. He passed a young woman, her blond hair showering over her shoulders as she walked, humming gently to herself, a bright smile on her pretty face as she held up a dusky red dress, white tresses flaring from the hips of it, reminding Narza somewhat of a La Vedan lilac. He traced the path he'd watched her walk back to a stand, the one he assumed she'd purchased the dress from.

It was a simple wooden stand, a bright red cloth draped over top of it with no name to be seen, not that names really mattered during the festival, people had so many places to shop at they rarely paid attention to much at a stand that didn't wow them. The woman standing behind the counter was absolutely radiant by any standards, an angular, but beautiful face, violet eyes shining with just a hint of mischief. Her long hair hung down to the small of her back, a rich walnut brown. Across her forehead was a tiara assembled of, oddly enough, a bundle of La Vedan lilacs, their rosy red cores encircled by delicate cream colored petals. She wore a tight fitting black corset that sat well on her curves, over a slightly puffy dress, though he couldn't make out its color in the light. Narza found himself unconsciously smiling at her, only realizing he'd done so when she returned it, displaying a flawless set of dazzling white teeth.

"Why hello there handsome." she addressed him, her voice low and sensual, which Narza felt himself somewhat drawn to. "Looking for something for your lady? Or perhaps you just came here to speak with me.." she let her statement hang in the air, leaning over the stand, being sure to give the handsome stranger a good view of her chest. He chuckled, unfazed.

"I was actually quite interested in the dress I saw a woman walk by with, she seemed unusually pleased with it," he replied to her, "not to say that it wasn't a gorgeous dress," he added calmly, not wanting to offend, the woman seemed pleased by this, withdrawing herself from her leaning position.

"Ah yes, that there was the Bariuran princess as it happens, sprightly girl that one, so much to learn," she mused, violet eyes half lidded in a reminiscent way. "Maybe a brave knight in shining armor like yourself can sweep her off her feet," she leaned forward again, her palm flush against her cheek as she spoke, almost conspiratorially to Narza," you see, she's with this swordsman from her native lands, engaged actually, dark, mysterious type. But, unlike I'm sure you are," she added, followed by a sultry wink, "he's absolutely clueless when it comes to women, they've been together for years apparently, nothing more than the occasional chaste kiss in the public eye from that one. Well our little princess is the adventurous type, she's not a fan of a man who doesn't seize what he wants, so she was hoping my dress might, give him that little push. But, as it stands with her, I'd say she'd pounce on just about any man that came through and swept her off her feet. And I bet, you'd get bonus points if you can knock that hot head fiance's block off as well." As she added the last part, she slowly crept one hand up Narza's breastplate, her nails clicking faintly off the metal, accompanied by a slight sizzling sound, though Narza pushed that from his mind, frowning slightly.

"She's so desperate she'd be pleased if someone beat her fiance?"

"Who said anything about her?" She added, winking again, Narza actually felt himself blush at her brazenness.

"Hmm, well I can't say I'm the type to go looking for women to woo, but I'll keep that in mind. I see you're a fan of the La Vedan lilac," he stated, gesturing to those across her tiara and also gesturing behind him, indicating the dress he'd seen the princess walk with. At the mere mention of the flower, the woman's eyes suddenly sparkled happily, a broad, genuine smile gracing her features as the man before her continued to peak her interest.

"I am! I absolutely ADORE flowers, and that's one of my favorites, flowers inspire all of my dresses as you can see." Mentioning this, she stepped back from her stand so that Narza could see the dress she wore, a thick green fabric, almost like wool, the woman had more wealth than her simple little stand let on it seemed. As he watched though, she twirled on her heels, and to his amazement, the fabric seemed to shift as the light hit it at different angles, traversing the full spectrum of radiant, bright colors, back in place, she curtsied, excitedly awaiting his opinion.

"Amazing! It seems plants of all kinds are your strong suit, I never imagined I'd see the sheen of the world tree outside of Vriksha." She beamed, pleased that someone had finally figured it out. They chatted for what felt like hours after that, from the different flowers they'd both encountered, to the state of the Continents. Narza learned that the woman, her name was Nalmika, was one who came from quite a wealthy background, dresses more a hobby for her than a living, she'd actually made some sizeable donations to the festival. He discussed with her in great detail the intensity of his devotion as a religious man, a subject she found extremely interesting it seemed, but he was happy to share. He noted that more often than not Nalmika seemed to skirt around more personal questions aimed at her, focusing instead mainly on him, but he thought it was nice, to bear himself as he'd only done before to the gods on holy ground. He felt comfortable around the woman, even given her flirtatious advances that arose more often than he thought he'd ever feel comfortable with.

In the middle of a discussion on, in Narza's opinion, the abhorrent lack of faith in the La Vedan knighthood, a figure appeared from behind Nalmika, Nalmika grinned at the newcomer. The woman wore a dress designed after one of Nalmika's favorites, the Agni ashen lily. The silk was a smoky red around its edges, particularly the sleeves, while the rest was an ashy gray. Narza narrowed his vision, and actually spotted the extremely fine red fibers sewn throughout the gray, that were made more prominent every time the woman took in breath; giving the impression of her dress lighting up whenever she did so. Her midnight hair was hung high on her head, obviously professionally done, her dewy blue eyes spoke volumes of her distaste for the attire though, her bony face obscured with a scowl for Nalmika.

"I look ridiculous in this body," she spat out, Narza frowned, shrugging off the wording, finding it odd.

"Now now dear sister, no need to drive away our guest," Nalmika laughed, draping a dainty arm over her sister's shoulders. The woman raised her eyes to him, surprise scrawled faintly in them, as if she'd only just noticed him.

"This monkey? What use have I for pleasing him?" Narza frowned again, tucking his hair behind his ears, the comment making him self conscious. He wondered briefly what it was about these two that would make him care, the only times he'd ever bother with his appearance being when he attended church.

"This CHARMING man, is Narza, Phee, and I would so like it if I could become very...good friends with him," her voice dropping sultrily, Phee rolled her eyes.

"_Whore_" Phee muttered.

"Hmm?"

"Oh nothing, sister, nothing at all."

Narza smiled, amused at the sisterly quarreling, taking it as his cue to leave at any rate, he bid them farewell, bowing deeply to both of them, he noticed Phee's hard expression soften slightly at the gesture.

"Oh Narza!" Nalmika chimed, grabbing his arm as he turned away, he stopped. "Are you going to be at the Knight's Tournament?" He looked towards the central square to the grand clock above the city, twenty minutes to midnight, he'd not considered the tournament since his argument with the punching bag earlier. "That lad Atro is rumored to be entering, wielding the famed blade of the gods no less, " she offered, seeming to echo Aem's earlier words. Her expression was suddenly solemn though, no trace of the flirtatious woman he'd spent the past hour speaking with, she was looking for an answer here.

"Pfft. Blade of the gods indeed, the monk could never command such favor, I would have him begging for mercy in an instant, that insolent rat." Narza thought he saw a ghost of a smile played at both sisters' lips at this, but he wasn't sure.

"Well, it would be incredible to see you put that to the test Narza. You see, Phee and I made a bit of a family donation, an old heirloom of ours, and we would be delighted to see you claim it. It's an old sword, one not nearly so cloaked in legend as Urias, this blade was wielded directly by the gods, it is said that he who controls the blade, truly becomes the vessel of their power."

Narza's ears perked up at the sound of this, not only would he prove his worthiness to the gods in so winning this tournament, but he would finally be able to put that damned orphan boy Atro in his place, he made up his mind. Thanking Nalmika, he turned to head to the city square, determined to reach it before midnight so that he could enter, not that speed was much of an issue for him, In an instant, he was gone, swifter than the wind he moved, and even quieter.

**...**

"So, you truly mean to take a champion then Nalmika? And a _MONKEY_ no less."

"Why yes Phee, I do, he's got eyes the color of starlight and the confidence of the Agni emperor," Nalmika responded, smiling longingly as her thoughts turned entirely to him; the strength in his muscles, the speed and flexibility he possessed, the ferocity he projected when he was passionate...she shuddered, realizing how long it had been since she'd taken a man to bed with her, it'd been decades.

"Why sister, you look just about ready to faint, thinking of that man, surely you aren't intent on greasing your palms to utilize a human?"

"Oh I would be greasing more than my palm.."Phee scrunched up her face in disgust, the image Nalmika drew steadily burning into her mind. "Your mind really is bound more tightly than your legs dear," she began speaking in a very husky tone, causing Phee's stomach to churn at the implications, Nalmika whispered in her ear "perhaps I can find you a nice, big, burly minotaur to loosen them both up, eh? How does that sound?" She watched as her sister turned absolutely green in the face, she sighed, a smile breaking out nonetheless.

"I think it sounds appalling! "

"Well, think it over, I know you'll come around," she winked, Phee sneered at her. "Well, if you're so intent on being a killjoy, I think I'll just head out on my own and see if Narza's every bit the blademaster he fancies himself."

"And leave me to sell these ridiculous dresses in your stead? Do not think me so easily fooled Nalmika!"

"Ah yes, truly dear sister, your intellect far exceeds what I credit you with," Nalmika feigned, grinning beneath the cover of her hand, she so adored placing Phee in such situations, watching her older sister act like she had a choice was always so...adorable.

"As much as I...SO look forward to watching a bunch of monkeys waving their swords about like a group of brain dead school children, remind me, how long MUST we wear these...outfits? And my hair in such a fashion? I wouldn't force my worst servant into these rags as a punishment!"

"You heard master, Phee," Nalmika began, smiling at her sisters discomfort as she carefully sealed away the various boxes she had scattered about the stand that contained all her wares, "we remain until we've established if there are any clear and present threats to us that arise during the festival, just be glad they chose not to send Zelha."

"Ugh, "Phee shuddered, the thought of the manipulative wench sending chills down her spine, "anyway, how long is this infernal festival to be then?"

"One week," Nalmika beamed at her mockingly. Phee sighed.

**...**

The crowd assembled in the square fell to a hush as the Shadowdome descended over them; the goal of it was so that people would be entirely focused on the fighting, since the city mages controlled the only lights. For the most part, those entered in the tournament stuck to their designated crowd sectors. Knights of La Veda, Vriksha, and Sama all stuck to the eastern half of the square, and Agni, Bariura, and Atharva knights all stuck to the western half. They'd come up when they were called for, initially the competitors had a designated place to wait, but they'd found in recent years that the crowds were much more invested when the knights stood among them, when they could clear the way for those championing them.

After going to a nearby vendor and purchasing a Ganju Gobbler, Narza settled himself at the outside edge of the throngs, allowing himself a wide berth from the people, and a perfect view of the arena. The divining light appeared high over the elevated ring that had been erected for the competitors, its light isolated to the ring.

"Lllllladiesssssss aaaaaand geeeentlemeeeeeeen," came an announcer's voice, its source unapparent,"our competitors!" There came the general thunder of applause from the crowd, Narza took the opportunity to raise his treat in the air, uttering a brief prayer of thanks for his food and the show. "First up, the soon to be crowned prince of Bariura, Arus, the Fire Knight!"

Narza watched as a large, snow white mare cantered up the steps of the west end. Seated on it, the princess he'd passed earlier in the market, wearing the very same dress she'd bought from Nalmika. The Arus fellow rode behind her, instantly Narza saw the validity in what Nalmika had told him, the man wasn't one to seize a prize. He wore a long, crimson blade across his back, held down by tan lashings, his dark hair billowed about him as he waved to the crowd. The man had all the world before him and didn't take even a second to show his love for the woman he sat with, small wonder he bored her.

Narza spotted another rise up onto the platform, this one unannounced oddly, and from the corner of the ring no less. Narza recognized the green robes almost instantly, the self same thief he'd watched at the market, what was he planning? Narza bit heartily into his Ganju treat savoring the rich taste of blueberries as he watched, the thief suddenly blew a pillar of fire out in front of him, to the delighted cries of the onlookers; perhaps this was some elaborate set up by the knight to yet woo his woman?

The thief rolled what appeared to be a number of thin, red bars, which came to a halt beneath the couple's horse, neither of whom seemed to have noticed the intruder. In an instant, the bars exploded in a flash of brilliant blue and green light, accompanied by billowing clouds of smoke and a harsh fizzling sound. The horse reared back on its haunches, flinging the couple from the saddle, the crowd fell deathly silent at the sudden turn of events. It took a moment for anyone to once again spot the dismounted couple through the great gouts of smoke that still roared from the bars the thief had tossed, but when the smoke had cleared enough, Narza had to laugh.

The thief had the princess clutched in his arms, apparently having caught her before she'd hit the ground, muttering something in her ear that he doubted anyone could hear. The newly single knight Arus, which Narza imagined he'd very quickly be becoming, was lying flat on his face a few feet away, the horse bounding in great circles around him as it attempted to ease the flaring pain in it's hind legs. The thief grew bolder still, stealing a kiss on the young princess' lips before the entire crowd assembled, the very thing Narza wagered she'd been hoping Arus would've done, the crowd remained surprisingly silent, not sure what to make of the development. Indeed, Narza couldn't figure it out himself, he wasn't positive if this was part of an act or if the thief really had the moxie to pull a stunt like this in front of all the people of the Six Continents, after a moment's deliberation, Narza wagered the latter, beginning to like the thief.

Arus' recovery was heralded by a collective intake of breath by the entire crowd, as well as the princess suddenly breaking away from the thief and gasping. Unfazed, the green cloaked man uttered one more statement to the princess, causing her to light up the shade of her dress, this seemed to tip the fire knight over the edge as he grabbed hold of the thief, whirling him around, and throwing a brutal punch. The crowd watched with rapt attention as the thief delivered a fierce elbow to the side of the knight's head, who shook it off after barely a moment of shock. The knight yanked the blade from its bindings across his back, the thief drew two rusted old daggers, the crowd cheered; it seemed there would be a preliminary fight for the princess.

All in all the fight lasted about a full minute, but the back and forth between the two combatants drew out every slash and crossing of blades like a baited breath. Flames coursed over the fire knight's blade as he began to get infuriated by the smaller man's insistence on living, in one powerful swing he bore through the old daggers the thief used, leaving the man defenseless. Another rapid fire series of strikes and the small man suddenly GRABBED the blade in midair, another collective intake of breath, then the thief threw the blade aside, dashing past the fire knight. Turning on their heels, both competitors gave eachother a final glare, before the fire knight once again charged forward, blade held high. He leapt up into the air, burning red flames ominous beneath the divine light above, and the thief actually leapt up after him. Narza was almost too scared to watch the outcome, but took another bite of his pastry, too engrossed to look away. Spinning in midair, the green cloaked man delivered a roundhouse kick the second before the flaming blade would've cleaved him in half, and the fire knight EXPLODED. The prone form of Arus sailed clean out of the arena, smoking all the way, and landing with a loud thud in the western half of the square, onlookers jumping out of the way to avoid collision, leaving the body a wide berth.

All eyes were on the thief now as he stood, legs visibly shaking, though Narza doubted anyone noticed that at this point as he stood, triumphant. Holding his hands up for silence, the thief began to deliver a rousing speech, for once, someone would probably hear a pin drop in the deadened silence of the square. Finishing his treat, Narza found himself registering the thief's words almost subconsciously, he'd always been angered by the fact that the king's treasury warranted a room larger than the average house in La Veda, while the churches and homes of the people remained mere hovels that barely scraped by, he found himself gritting his teeth in agreement. The fallen knight was rising again, flames burning intensely, the crowd around him stepped back further, Narza began barreling towards him, not about to let the man ruin the effect the thief was having on the people, praying forgiveness from the gods for what he was about to do. As Arus made to climb back onto the stage, Narza appeared behind him in a flash and slammed him down to the ground, dodging away on instinct from any potential counter. Arus though, barely seemed to register the setback, not even scanning for the source of the attack, a great set of fiery wings sprouted from his back now, and he leapt up onto the stage.

The thief whirled around, stunned to see Arus up and about so soon. Not even bothering to put up a defense a second time that evening, the thief bolted, taking off towards the western exit of the square, directly past the blazing knight. Leaping out over the crowds' heads, he opened some sort of satchel on his chest, and suddenly zel was raining down on the people, much to their delight, a few odd coins clinked harmlessly off Narza's head as he watched the man pass, then dash off into the darkness. Arus, not even caring to go to his princess, to see if she was wounded in any way, took off in hot pursuit of the thief. Narza made up his mind, deciding he wanted that thief protected, he raced after the pair, aiming to beat them to the edge of the dome.

It proved quite an easy task, in seconds he'd caught up with them, and in a couple more overtaken them, taking refuge in an alley near to the edge of the dome, waiting in ambush should the thief be overtaken. Arus dashed overhead of the thief, landing with a crash directly in the path of the thief, wings grazing the dome's edge, the thief took off in the direction of Narza's alley. The smaller man slammed directly into Narza, who took the blow easily, simply staring down at the thief, he spoke.

"That's a lot of money you threw out there," He said simply. The thief was clearly stunned, nobody could ever quite imagine how fast Narza was until they'd seen it first hand.

"Uh huh," came the response, apparently he'd spent his vocabulary on the speech, Narza decided to ask some questions.

Did you steal the money from any churches?" "No." "Because it'd be a real shame if I find out you defiled the gods." "I didn't." "Where's the money going?" "Orphanages mainly." "All of it?" "Well a bit to new equipment so I can continue this too." "Good, you don't claim to be a complete saint." "No sir." There was a pause finally, then "Alright, get going then, I'd run, no need for anyone to see what's about to happen to this one."

There was a moment's hesitation in the thief's movement, Narza sighed, "Or I could just leave you to him, I'm sure the way you were running it's all part of the plan." That did it, the thief took off, leaving Narza facing a rabid-looking Arus at the mouth of the alley, golden eyes glowing dangerously. "I wouldn't, he's under my protection that one," he told Arus simply, his only warning.

"Then I'll just have to kill two people today," came the response, Narza shook his head, 'wrong answer' he thought to himself. Arus launched a furious attack, which Narza easily deflected from himself, unimpressed. He punched the knight in the side of his head as he wound up for a slash at Narza's throat, knocking him out cold against the hard stones below. Sighing, Narza gathered up the body, throwing it over his shoulder, before trekking back to the square.

**...**

Narza forcibly threw the body up onto the western end of the arena, he rolled a few feet, then stopped before the princess, who leaned over him, eyeing Narza worriedly.

"He's fine, he'll probably be waking…"Narza began, before his statement was promptly finished by Arus rousing, groaning while clutching the side of his head.

"Wha...what happened Priscilla?" He asked, delirious.

"You uh...you fell dear, one of the mages, his uh, spell went a bit off course and struck the horse, he flung us off, you uh..cushioned my fall, but it looks like it put you out for a few minutes, I'm sorry dear." Narza raised his eyebrows, impressed by the lie, mayhaps the woman did care for her knight, or she just didn't want to harm his self esteem, he'd hardly be of use then. Arus seemed happy to accept this explanation, apologizing profusely for not protecting her better.

"And it seems Arus is back in the ring folks, so we'll bring up his competitor, from the La Vedan Republic, knight Atro!" The crowd cheered, pleased that the show could finally get underway. Narza ground his teeth as he watched the monk ascend the western stairs, long blond hair bound in a braid that hung to his lower back, the boy brandished a blade nearly as tall as he was, the famed White Blade, Urias. Arus stood finally, seeming steady on his own feet, and advanced to the center of the ring with Atro while Priscilla scurried off of the ring, her mare in tow. Both opponents bowed to one another, then raised their blades skyward. A brilliant light engulfed both of their blades, shining a dark blue. "Alright folks, you know the rules, the first man to land three blows against their opponent will win the match. Each strike landed will result in a flash so that the crowds can see when everything happens. Your blades have been dulled so they won't be severing anything, so it's encouraged, don't hold back! " As the announcer finished speaking, a bolt of lightning cracked from the light above the ring, striking the ground directly between the two opponents, the force of it flinging them to opposite ends of the arena, the match was on.

Arus leapt forward, launching into a flurry of attacks, whirling about and smashing his blade against Atro's, who stood there, calmly blocking the attacks, before sweeping under the flaming sword and jabbing his blade solidly into Arus' chest, a bright flash erupted. The fire knight grunted, grabbing his chest, and the crowd cheered, Atro backpedaled away from the knight while he had the chance, resuming his defensive stance. Arus roared, the fiery wings from before appearing now on his back, he leapt forward, stabbing forward at Atro with blistering force, death in his eyes. Atro artfully dodged around the attack, whipping his blade about and slamming into Arus' back, right between the roots of his wings, his blade was once more engulfed in light, Arus grunted in frustration. The crowd was on the edge of its seats as Arus's blade was swept up in an absolute inferno in his frustration, he spun around and began again, his sloppy form showing through his frustration as he continued the same relentless attacks that had failed him thus far, and indeed Atro remained stone faced against the attack, blocking them easily, just as his instructor had taught him in the art of fencing. Rather anticlimactically, Atro simply ducked under another strike, stabbing forward into Arus' chest, his blade seemed to explode with light, and the crowd all leapt up, cheering wildly for Atro.

Arus slumped forward, the flames, and his will, vanishing from his person. Atro stepped forward, raising his arms into the air, inviting the applause of the crowd, before turning back to Arus, offering a gloved hand to the discouraged knight. He hoisted the fire knight to his feet, who looked on abashed, not willing to turn his head and meet the eyes of his beloved, it was one thing to lose to the knight prodigy Atro, but it was still quite another to be the first eliminated in the tournament, Narza reckoned that the bruise on his head hardly did anything for his mood either.

Arus eliminated, the announcer called for the next set of challengers. From Atharva was the sky knight, the famed Falma, the crowd fell to hushed silence at the sighting of the traveler. The silence was abruptly broken by three thunderous blasts suddenly filling the ears of the crowd, all eyes turned to the man responsible. The traveling partner to the great Falma, Grafl the gunner, his namesake pistol brandished high overhead as he fired another volley, whooping loudly for his comrade as he did so. A tan, tank of a man came up to Grafl as he moved to fire off a third set of shots, rapping the gunner on the shoulder, an enormous shield slung across his back, Grafl began shouting at the man and without a word the brute clubbed the gunner over his head with his shield, dragging the body away and giving a signal to the announcer to continue.

The challenger to the knight was the apparent tutor of Atro, the blade hero Zelban. His green plate armor shone majestically under the bright light of the orb above them, his triple pronged blade drawn and ready from the start, all business. Their blades were cloaked in magic, and their fight went on, much to the delight of the crowd. In the end though, the old blademaster couldn't maintain, his skills having been passed on completely to his student before him, exultantly, Falma left the field to make way for the next round.

For the next contestants, Will was called up, his pronged sword waved high overhead as he welcomed the crowd's cheers. His opponent was a tall, black armored knight who's suit appeared to weigh a ton on his shoulders, his broadsword emblazoned with a distinct fiery pattern. The prince of the Agni Empire, named after his kingdom. Will made quick work of the would be prince, his pronged blade scoring all three hits in a single swipe after Agni had scored two blows consecutively, he stalked away in disappointment. Will cast a glance down upon Narza, a fierce grin on his face, mocking the knight for actually attending the tournament he'd so ridiculed earlier.

Narza was called up next, to combat some knight of the Vriksha Republic. Stepping up to the ring, Narza was met with quite a surprising sight for a knight's tournament, a woman strolled up onto the platform, a blade in each hand radiating pale green light, her deep blue eyes zoned in on his own, an expression somewhere between anger and admiration on her features. Her turquoise hair whipped about her face with every movement. She wore a scandalously short green skirt, with a matching cloth band about her chest, leaving her stomach exposed. Overall it was quite a daring outfit, both for public and use in the tournament, she'd not a hint of armor on her. Faris, crown princess of Vriksha, though she'd never see the age of her rule if she always dressed in such a way, the girl needed a bodyguard.

On the call of the announcer, three blades were raised skyward and cloaked in blue energy, Narza uttered a short prayer to the gods, begging their forgiveness for wielding his blade in such a senseless duel, barely finishing before the bolt of lightning separated them, blowing him to the end of the arena. The woman charged him, baring her teeth as she brought both blades down in an overhanded strike, Narza held up his blade, blocking both strikes easily. Though rather than withdrawing, she held her blades there, attempting to force his guard down, he would've laughed at the attempt if it had come under any other circumstances.

"So you're the one 'at defeated me bodyguard!" She drew her blades back, this time bringing her blades down in an X, Narza brought his sword up and blocked both of the attacks, crossing the three blades as Faris pressed forward again, her face determined. "He made quite the ruckus about tha' one, I was curious what kinda man I'd be steppin' up to with all the yellin' he was doin', I'll admit, I din't think ya'd be so good lookin'" she added with a wicked smile. Narza fought to fathom what bodyguard she could be referring to, it finally dawning on him that she was referring to the archer from earlier, that shrimp of a man, what kinds of bodies was he meant to be guarding? While he was thinking though, he didn't even realize when Faris suddenly withdrew her blades and jabbing them both into Narza's sides, causing him to grunt and fall back, her blades flashed almost blindingly, causing the crowd to erupt in cheers and laughter. The crap-shoveling grin on her face made Narza suddenly very, very willing to punch her out.

Instead he settled for a simple victory. with a blood vessel throbbing under his left eye, he glared at the woman, and disappeared before her very eyes, instantly her grin was gone. In a flash he'd reappeared, slashing his blade into her exposed stomach, disappearing again, he landed a solid stab at her side, before turning about and slamming his blade into her back, causing her to cry out and fall to her knees, the whole match took a matter of about thirty seconds. There was no cry of delight from the crowd, only stunned silence, Narza had worked so fast that the people hadn't even registered the fighting. Narza turned to leave the stage, but not before a dainty hand fell on his shoulder, he looked behind him to see Faris, a sultry smile on her lips, her breath hot against his ear. "Well then, I don't think I mind the fuss all too much now, if ye ever want to be a bodyguard, ye only need ta ask," Narza tensed, his cheeks stained red, then simply walked away from the woman, not about to give her the satisfaction of a response.

The tournament continued on for hours it seemed, Narza was pitted against two other knights; the first was a blue coated man from Sama, their sole representative that year, wielding a blade of ice honed to a razor edge, but he fell quickly beneath a coordinated onslaught by Narza, who ended the match in a flat ten seconds. After receiving complaints directly from one of the mages overseeing the tournament, Narza was made to create a greater spectacle upon his next fight, the semifinals up against a woman from the Agni empire, going simply by the title of Lava. Narza took great pleasure in drawing out her humiliation, her occult, arcane chanting an affront to the gods not given from his previous opponents, she left from the semifinals ashamed, her blade not having so much as touched his in the ten minutes he drew the fight out for.

**...**

"So, Phee darling, is he not everything I told you he would be?"

"So he can defeat a couple of useless monkeys, you seem absolutely infatuated with him sister, I'm beginning to fear for my well being if you continue down this road," Phee replied, prickly as ever to her sister. They'd sat and watched the tournament from the start, particularly interested in Narza having dragged back the fire knight, who seemed to have been shelled out three astounding defeats that night. Phee bit hungrily into the pastry she'd purchased from a nearby vendor, a Molin Munchy as the fiery haired cook had called them. She found herself in a confusing state of self loathing, loving the tart taste of the apricots that filled it, hating the fact that she appreciated anything the monkeys had created.

"Well what's not to adore about him? He's handsome, he's skilled and precise, he will do, ANYTHING that a god asks of him, he's the perfect champion for me. Plus," Nalmika added with a wink to her sister, "he's got a big sword."

"Well yes I do suppose it's a rather impressive blade, I doubt it's La Vedan make…"

"No Phee, by sword I…"

"Perhaps it was made by that blacksmith we've heard so much about, Galan or some such, he's forged several blades that have come up in legend as of late."

"No Phee I don't think you understand, his…"

"Now THERE'S someone worthy of us taking the time to eliminate, before he can create anything with the intent of killing the gods."

"He's got a big d…"

"Lllllladiesssssss aaaaaaand geeeentlemeeeeeeen, it's time for the title match!" The crowd roared, drowning out the remainder of Nalmika's sentence, much to her annoyance. Beside her, Phee smirked, knowing full well what her cheap whore sister meant, pleased that she could make her squirm, then in a split second she frowned again, realizing how long she'd been around her sister to have actually known what she meant, she needed a vacation. " It seems like our final round is set to be a rumble in the kingdom folks! La Vedan knights, Atro!" Another roar of applause, "and, Narza!" Narza's applause was tentative, he'd certainly put on quite the show in his last match, but people were unsure how he'd approach his final duel. Both sisters leaned in at the mention of the names, extremely interested in seeing the match play out.

**...**

"Pleased to make your acquaintance sir, it's an honor to be fighting you, truly!" Atro extended his hand out to Narza, hoping to get off on good terms with him, particularly seeing as his past victories had been, for lack of a better term, slaughters. Narza however, didn't deign to respond, instead drawing his blade, and kneeling, offering up a quiet prayer, one to grant him the strength to completely destroy the fool monk, who would go about spouting such blasphemous nonsense as having drawn the White Blade. "Oh, good idea sir, I missed my daily prayers today as well, guess I got caught up in practicing for this, hehe." The monk knelt beside Narza, closing his eyes serenely and soundlessly mouthing out a prayer, the blood vessel stood pronounced beneath Narza's left eye, his rage building into a behemoth at the simple act, this fool, he would pay dearly. Rising to their feet in unison, the two knights held their blades at arm's length, extending them skywards, and allowing the blue energy to cloak them, the bolt of lightning tore down the center of the arena, and the bout for the true God's Blade began.

Narza began as Atro's previous opponents had, an immediate flurry of strikes, albeit much quicker, hoping to fool Atro into assuming he'd go down just as easily, change his strategy to befit it. He had to give the friar boy credit, even with the almost constant ringing of steel and the roar of the crowds, the boy still managed to keep pace with Narza, at least while defending, blocking each strike with seeming ease. Narza kept the assault until he saw the familiar flash in Atro's eyes, the same one he got the second before he'd attacked in every instance thus far, Narza pivoted around the strike that came seemingly from nowhere, slamming the hilt of his blade square into the boy's back, causing him to cry out and stumble forwards a bit, dazed and confused that Narza had even registered his attack let alone dodged it so flawlessly. Atro turned now, his eyes widening further as he noticed the crowds remained silent, Narza hadn't landed a blow with the blade of his sword. Narza gave him a wicked smile, making clear his intentions, he would draw out the boy's suffering.

This time, Atro pressed the attack, hopeful to possibly win by a quick three hits and avoid the wrath of the knight before him, whose silver eyes glittered with a savage, dangerous light now. Narza waited until Atro was nearly upon him, even the monk's inhuman speed no match for Narza's perception, he swung his blade up with savage strength to block the incoming stab, sending Atro back, reeling and cradling his right shoulder, the force of the strike having pulled something loose.

"U...Urias, give me strength," he said aloud, resuming his defensive stance, having learned the hard way that La Vedan fencing wasn't meant for offense. Narza's head visibly twitched in rage at the comment, the blood vessel standing stark red against his alabaster skin, eyes crazed and hate filled. Atro gulped at his opponent's appearance, good, let the boy squirm. Narza had planned on at least giving the knight a chance to prove his worth, to fight with at least some semblance of skill, but now, he'd just given up that luxury. Narza dashed forward, vanishing before Atro's very eyes with his speed, forcing the monk to gasp, scanning around the arena for his opponent, his training failing him in the face of such a devastatingly fast opponent. Narza appeared again behind the boy, landing a fierce kick to the back of his knees, Atro crumpled to his knees wordlessly, too stunned to react. In an instant Narza was on him, grabbing a fistful of the boy's hair, then slamming Atro's face into the floor of the smooth stony platform. The crowd gasped at the sudden display, but Narza paid them no heed, simply pulling the monk's head back up and repeating the process, over, and over, and over.

"You think, that you can come forth to the world, and slander the gods' name by saying that a worthless friar boy like yourself could draw their blade, and earn their favor?" Narza was beyond help at this point, beyond a point wherein he could reasonably stop, this knight of La Veda had transgressed against the gods he'd sworn to serve, and Narza would make an example of him.

"Urias….give...me..st..strength," Atro managed to rasp out between the broken teeth and the blood that ran from his destroyed nose into his open mouth. Narza felt his will snap.

**...**

Both sisters were absolutely delighted at the sudden display of ferocity by Nalmika's soon to be champion, eerie smiles alighting on their faces.

"Well?" Nalmika asked, already knowing the answer by Phee's telltale grin.

"I would be delighted see him serve, he will make a worthy vessel after all." They both shared a hearty laugh at this, one that pierced the hushed silence that had fallen over the crowd, the people around them turned to look at them as if they were insane, but the two paid them no heed. "Oh look, they seek to stop him," Phee pointed out, amused, as a number of minotaurs were moving through the crowds to storm up the stairs to stop Narza from abusing the broken knight in his grip.

"Oh, that's adorable, we'll see to it that they do no such thing," Nalmika replied, flicking her wrist forward. A clear blue dome appeared over the ring, the minotaurs slammed into it, hammering their fists against the sudden impenetrable barrier, but to no avail, the two combatants were locked in there until a victor emerged. Nalmika and Phee watched as Narza once again held his blade aloft, over a broken and beaten Atro, still a perfect blue. "Watch this then sister, we'll indoctrinate him immediately." Another flick of the wrist, and suddenly the glow about Narza's blade turned from blue, to a pale green.

**...**

"Rise then monk! Rise and face me if you think yourself chosen by the gods!" Atro obeyed, still believing himself chosen, that he would be saved, or given a sign that his was a righteous cause, but Narza's brutal beating had left him rapidly losing faith. He watched as Narza raised his blade skyward again, and suddenly it was engulfed in green light, leaving him and all around him stunned, even Narza it seemed, though he quickly recovered. "YOU SEE! I HAVE BEEN CHOSEN BY THE GODS! NOT YOU WORM!" And so that heavenly blade descended, Atro rose on shaky feet to block it, he felt the shock of the impact assault his body, rattling every bone as Urias groaned against the attack. Standing now, he blocked another attack, feeling his whole body rattle, his mind awash with pain, barely even able to register the next attack come. And then, he heard something crack.

The third and final strike Narza landed on the supposed holy blade was met with a sudden sound of glass shattering, as the blade was broken at the middle, the blade and hilt flying from Atro's grasp. Narza caught the hilt, the broken metal still attached to it jagged and sharp. He held his blade to the back of Atro's neck, the broken steel to his throat, and shouted, loud enough that the entire crowd assembled could hear. "Yield friar boy! Yield and repent though it will not save you from the gods' wrath!" Atro's eyes narrowed to the remains of Urias at his throat, the ward was broken, this sword was very dangerous, if he refused...that blade would drink his life away, his voice shaking, resolve destroyed, he relented.

"I...I yield…" he stammered, his will as broken as the blade that lay before him. Narza dropped the hilt, raising his green blade high in the air, and shouting triumphantly, "He yields!" There was no ushering of applause, no cheering, no parade in honor of the champion, simply a single man, brandishing in his hand a velvet cushion, seated upon which was the sword Nalmika had promised, to which the man only referred to as, "a wicked blade, for a wicked man," before scurrying off, fear plain in his eyes when he looked at Narza. Happily, Narza claimed the sword, energy surging through his every muscle upon touching it, truly, this was a blessed sword, and as he held it, two very happy goddesses smiled evilly from the sidelines.


	2. Turncloak

**Greetings and salutations everyone! Well, as promised, I have returned with part 2 of Narza's epic tale, which shall begin to go into depth in his involvement in the war with the gods. Now, this chapter has been in the works for a while and I've been struggling with what to place the rating for it, the doc's kinda jumped around between M and T for a while and well, I finally realized that the things I read as a teen aren't the things most teens should be reading. It's nothing extreme in this chapter, nothing overly heavy, but better safe than sorry, so read at your own peril. It's just another aspect of my writing I want to work on, you'll know it when you see it. **

**But anyway enough rambling, a quick key: **Normal. present day scene. _Italicized, flashback scenes._

**Once again, I don't own Brave Frontier, but you never know...ya never know.**

**ENJOY!**

The Mad Swordsman's Descent: Turncloak

The darkness fed tonight in La Veda, a darkness that threatened to blot out the light that the kingdom had spent so many centuries protecting. It was alive, and it was wicked, coursing through the air, the gentle caress of a lover on the cheek of all it touched, whispering sweet nothings in their ears, seeds of dissent. Narza had felt her caress, but he had denied the whore's advances, plunging that darkness to the furthest corners of his mind. He had run through the messengers of darkness, with the very blade that they had sought to tarnish, to ruin. He had done the world justice, had brought honor to the name La Veda, he had brought retribution for those who were tempted by the tender voice of evil.

But why did he feel so empty?

To purge darkness was the highest goal achievable by a knight of La Veda, but this was no mere darkness. This was darkness given soul, given form, it had come offering the harmless tidbits of power and love, and had come away having consumed whole the men it had taken to. To purge their darkness was to purge them, and now his hands were caked with blood. With THEIR blood. He'd been fighting for so many days, the blood of so many running over them, that he'd forgotten what the natural color of his hands had been, before they'd become the scarlet claws they were now. The things he'd done, the things THEY'D done...he shuddered now as the memories tore through him, ripping bloody chunks of his consciousness away until they consumed him, fresh as the day they were made…

_Narza sat in the training courtyard of the La Veda guard, the day's exertions glistening on his skin; he panted gently, a cool burn rippling through muscles all over his body. His silver hair, marred with sweat, tumbled in lazy curls over his eyes, still recovering, he refrained from pulling them away, content in the temporary escape from the sight of the yard. He'd taken to practicing recently, the others had laughed at him, scoffed that the mighty had fallen, to have so sudden a desire to hone his skills. They hadn't laughed long. _

_He'd also taken to fighting without his armor on, he found at this point that the amount of effort it took to continue roasting in it while he practiced among the other soldiers was too high for too little payoff. His chest now rippled with lean muscle where once it had been flat and bony, his bare arms, ridden of hair now, pulsed gently with the warmth of a good workout, taxed but ready to continue at a moment's notice. Nalmika had bade him to do so; to practice among the soldiers. None among the men suspected her as she would slip into the courtyard as the swell of the sun broke across the horizon each morning, watching with unsuppressed awe, and some falsified special interest in the men as they went about their work. While the commander of the guard, Captain Redford, had thought to protest her intrusions at first, assuming his men would shirk their duties to flirt with the voluptuous damsel, he instead found they redoubled their efforts on a regular basis, honing their skills well beyond his expectations of them. She'd been elated when Narza began shedding his famed silver armor before his daily routine, insisted he shave his arms, she wanted to flaunt him when the time came, she'd told him, and when she did, she wanted every man there to be utterly ruined.  
None knew of her true identity, save for Narza himself, and her sister, they all just assumed her some incompetent drone with breasts; Narza told himself each day that that was for the best, though he had to contain himself from exploding for their ignorance with each lewd stare they cast her way. They'd made their remarks of course, of how he was just practicing with them now so that he could impress the lady Nalmika as well, oh, she had loved that, loved watching Narza squirm in barely suppressed rage, but he had brushed them off. _

"_The gods have spoken to me, blind fools, and they wished for me to be as worthy a vessel as possible to their power, and so for this I work, a noble end, while you strive only to earn the rare smile from some woman, as if it were the purest of gold." They had dismissed him of course, him and his 'pious hogwash', they always did that of course, again, perhaps it was for the best. _

_A small hand found itself at his mid-back, unwavering despite the thick layer of sweat that had gathered over it like a skin. Turning his head, Narza found his silver hair brushed to the side, light retaking him in the form of the ever beautiful Nalmika. She smiled warmly, her hair a luscious wave of emerald that hung in a single thick braid over her shoulder, a lovely green halo for her angelic face. She wore a dress today, a sundress fashioned after the starlight rose of Atharva, it clung delightfully to her every curve, its rich silver cloth was attuned to a person's emotions, and shone when detecting joy, dying down to a muted gray-black when it detected anger. Her other hand reached up, gently gliding over his rough cheek, those violet eyes of her beheld that same mischievous glint they always did when she was around him. Her dress bathed him in silver light, he glanced around the courtyard, apparently the men had been called in at some point, he'd simply been too caught up in his work to notice, small matter, they would do nothing about it, they were too afraid, for all their taunts. They were alone, Nalmika seemed...ravenous. _

_Her kiss was pure delight, and Narza would never deny her, he returned her passion in kind. Her hands explored his chiseled upper body, sliding tantalizingly slow over ever contour, every muscled ridge they found, insatiable. Even with the putrid, sour odor of sweat hanging over the air, she didn't mind, her interactions with her flowers had seen her sense of smell rubbed dull ages past, now, the scent only spurred her on. His own calloused hands roamed over her as well, finding her dress to be open-backed, he pulled her lithe form closer to his own, savoring the warmth of her body. Nalmika sighed appreciatively, her eyes opening briefly, that glint urging him on; he'd been awkward when their romance had begun, but no more, he'd memorized the landscape of her body, as an explorer would his maps, and Nalmika knew no greater pleasure. His hands drifted beneath the silk of the dress, encircling her in his arms now, possessive, she moaned her approval. She was a goddess, his goddess, and she would be worshipped as such, his fingers hooked over the straps of her sundress, tugging gently at them, when…_

" _And just what dark horse of romance is this? Narza you dog, enflamed not by battle, but a kiss!" Narza snapped away from Nalmika, a hand detaching itself from her back and swatting apart the thin trail of saliva that still connected them. His cheeks were aflame, met with two sets of rich laughter, one, the sweet melody of Nalmika, who bothered not even to return her straps to their place atop her shoulders, so brazen was she. The other was the swaggering tone he'd heard many a time before, and indeed, there it was, the billowing green cloak, now his trademark, and a far cry from the old, muddy, moss green blanket that had first been draped across those proud shoulders. His old boiled leather had been replaced by armor far more worthy of the title the people of the city had given him, Zel Knight, this armor allowed far freer movement to the thief, and was plated with the very gold he took so handily from the entitled of the land. Atop his head, lazily tilted, was a richly decorated crown, encrusted with all manner of jewels. _

_The two had remained steadfast comrades since the day they first met. Narza was content to allow the green shadow easy access to the castle, as he saw the smaller, less well-off districts shakily rise up from the dirt and sewage they'd been fated to; the streets of La Veda were a little cleaner each day for his work, its people, a little happier, and, most to Narza's satisfaction, its churches fuller. Narza had come to cherish the cries of anguish that came from the king's lungs whenever he discovered the considerable sums missing from his coffers, the looks of shame that crossed the features of the king-loving knights like Will and Aem, and most of all, he loved the recountings that his friend gave of each adventure, the grand schemes, close getaways, the miracles that he claimed trailed in his very wake. Zel Knight was a good man, and a better friend, Narza had vowed to himself that he would tear asunder any who dared to lay a finger on him. _

_The thief held a large, bulky sack slung across his shoulder, which jingled pleasantly with every move he made. He bore his dazzling white smile upon Narza and the beautiful woman in his arms. _

"_Why my friend, was I not told of this scandal? I would hear of it on end, fear not good man, it's nothing I can't handle!" Nalmika placed a dainty hand to her mouth, barely containing her laughter, the thief had recently taken to the quirk of a rhyme scheme when he spoke, it certainly made for interesting conversation if nothing else. _

"_Perhaps another time, oh Zel Knight, when milady isn't present perhaps," Narza offered, a bit of an edge in his voice that he hoped his friend would pick up on. _

"_Bah! Very well sir knight, but I am the Green Shadow! I am hidden even in light, and I will...I will…." His brow furrowed, he began frantically snapping his fingers, trying to trigger something, he looked almost in pain, it took Narza a minute to realize that he was searching for a rhyme, he grinned. _

"_Best to avoid that word in the future friend, you won't think of any to follow it." _

"_Ah, duly noted, I'll have to put more into that, milady?" Nalmika stood up from her seat beside Narza, finally taking the moment to readjust her dress straps. Narza moved to stop her, standing up and placing a hand on her shoulder, she simply smiled at him, that glint of lust still in her eyes, she turned back, her breath was hot on his ear._

"_We can continue this later, I have some, issues to pursue handsome, you have fun here, try not to get yourself in too much trouble. Save that wild side for me," she added with a wink. _

"_As you wish, my go…" Narza caught himself, he'd slipped up in this far too often," My love." Nalmika beamed at him, waving briefly to Zel Knight before departing, swaying her full hips far more than seemed necessary, not that Narza minded the view. He felt an elbow in his ribs, blood rushed anew to his cheeks, though he couldn't fathom his embarrassment, she was a goddess!_

"_Oh that fair flower, her breasts how they swell, was she perhaps rescued from a tower? Come now, I'm not one to kiss-and-tell." _

"_Pah!" Narza chuckled, " I'll not fall for that Caesar, it is, after all, the lady's request that I tell nobody of her identity." Zel Knight seemed supremely disappointed, but bore it with a grin, and a playful shrug of his shoulders. _

_In a second though, his devious demeanor dissolved, his face drew taut with something resembling worry. He seemed conflicted, as if he were having difficulty coming to a decision. In another moment though, even this was gone, he was resolute, some very uncharacteristic emotions for him. _

"_Narza, my friend, I came upon something today, you'll learn of it soon regardless, but I don't wish to be the one to keep it from you." Reaching into his cloak, Zel Knight undid the clasp on one of his dozens of pouches that hung over his breast, and drew out a small letter. It was bound with a gold seal, depicting a sword pointed towards the ground, the blade of Lucius, symbol of the church, and bound for none other than the king himself. Narza cocked an eyebrow at his friend as he took the parchment, his eyes begging the silent question, "Why do YOU have this?" Zel Knight merely cracked a wide smile, like a child caught stealing sweets. _

_Breaking the seal off, Narza unfolded the parchment, scanning through its message quickly:_

_**My Liege,**_

_**It is imperative that you leave the city walls immediately, one of our inquisitors has returned from a remote village in Atharva, bearing the gravest of news. It would appear that the gods have decided that their tolerance of humans has worn thin, and now they have begun amassing a loyal army of beasts and gods to eradicate mankind. I need not explain to you the magnitude of the situation, if you were to be killed, the kingdom would collapse into panic, we need you to retreat to a safe location; the Agni emperor has offered sanctuary within his walls, where he intends to take a stand against any imminent threat. You must venture there to safety, before the uproar of the news is brought to the streets, and your own people wall you in. I have beseeched the very gods, but my prayers now fall on deaf ears, the gods have naught but fire and fury to spit back on us. Go, while there is still time, Godspeed Milord. **_

_**Your Humble Servant**_

_**High Priest Zoltun Kain**_

**...**

His hands….these mangled claws, the bringers of light and death, never had he thought those two concepts able to go together in a single sentence. How wrong he'd been. In all his years of devout service to the gods he had spilled blood, broken bones, almost started wars...but he had never killed before today. It was a sickening feeling that sat like a hot coal in his stomach, chewing away at him.

And his gods-damned hands! The skin was rough and torn, calluses broken and fresh blood running down them, mingling with that of his enemies, they made his head swim. They clenched and unclenched, seemingly of their own volition, but they freeze up as soon as they'd done so to wicked hooks, feeling frozen, even in mid-summer. Whatever she'd done to him, he felt it coursing through his blood, fighting against his own mind, suppressing his inhibitions the moment they began to spring up, willing him to further bloodshed. Her words echoed in his ears, seeking to drown him in his sin, her lovely voice, gentle as a breeze, sweeter than honey.

_Narza approached his old townhouse, which had become the resting place of gods. It's faded blue walls did nothing to betray the wonders it held within. Approaching the rosewood door, he pulled his blade from the bundle that he kept his armor in during the day, which he slung across his back now. It's blade had begun...growing something. Peculiar red streaks had begun climbing upwards from the hilt of his sword with every passing day, they'd finally reached the tip as he practiced earlier that evening, he'd immediately torn straight through the test dummy he'd been attacking, the blade slicing through it like butter. It glowed in his hands now, the same brilliant green that his old blade had shone the day of the tournament, it was hard to believe that that day had been a scarce two months hence. With a faint click, the door creaked inward, Narza allowed himself in, gently closing it behind him. _

_"Ah, Narza, so very nice to see you again, here I was, almost thinking that you'd just gotten lost and would never return to us, but lo and behold, you're here again, sixty days in a row. That must be a record." Phee, just as delightful as the day they'd met, and still just as icy. She'd been moaning and groaning about leaving the city the entire time, and devout as Narza was, he'd nearly lost his own temper more than once over their time around one another. _

"_Yes milady, it was my home before it became yours, funny how that works." Narza had come to find that Phee wasn't a goddess who particularly reveled in being worshipped, she was simply pleased by very few things in life. What had begun one day as a loss of temper had soon become a daily ritual between them, exchanging venomous remarks; Narza wasn't sure if Phee enjoyed that tradition, or if she merely tolerated it, at the very least he found it nearly therapeutic. "So, Phee, you and your sister plan to be leaving soon then?" Phee frowned, toying absently with one frilly sleeve of her favorite royal blue dress, betraying nothing. Narza's voice sounded so...detached, she expected despair from losing her whore of a sister, so many men it seemed allowed themselves to be governed by the wrong head. _

"_Indeed, godhood has its responsibilities, not that YOU'D understand, and we've tarried on our little vacation here long enough. THRIllING as it's been dear, our business calls us elsewhere." _

"_Grim business that, humans aren't ones to sit down and let that happen…" _

"_What are you...how would you kn.." Phee was stunned, uncertain, hoping against hope he was bluffing._

_In response to her comment, he merely bowed to her, a stiff formality, showing proper respect, before brushing past her, careful not to tangle his equipment with her blanket of fiery orange hair as he did so. She huffed, turning her head as he bowed , he was her sister's plaything after all, and the lewd sounds her sister made in his presence only reminded her of the fact that this man was filthy beyond measure, even a show of respect from him seemed to stale the air around her. Still, she found her eyes wandering over his form as he brushed by, unable to help noticing just how he'd changed in those two months, pushing himself to lengths no mortal would dare as he trained for hours, he seemed so much more...god-like now. She shuddered then at the thought, the things her sister said to this man, hells, the things she probably DID...Phee found herself suddenly thinking of a minotaur, with a snarl that earned her a glance from Narza, damn him, she pushed the thought to the edge of her mind and went off to her chambers. _

_Narza elbowed into the chambers where he and Nalmika slept, a knot forming in his stomach at the thought of returning home to these two maidens, these objects of his worship, after what he'd learned. He saw Nalmika out of the corner of his eye as he entered, he pretended not to have, turning in towards a high backed chair by their door where he deposited his things, careful that none of the sharp metal dug into the upholstery, trying to take his time before turning around, trying to gather his thoughts that lay in scattered pieces now. All too soon though, he had to turn around, had to face her, in all her devastating beauty, and disturbing mystery. She wore the same dress he'd seen her in earlier that evening as she sat, cross legged, at the foot of their grand bed. The straps of the dress were already pulled free of her shoulders, dangling lazily against her arms now, taunting him, daring him to go to her and tear them down. She bit her bottom lip, giving him those adorably craven eyes that normally drove him to madness for her, but now they elicited no such response from his mind or his body, so deep was his concern. _

_Nalmika sat there, exposed to the world, ready that day to throw herself at the mercy of the adonis Narza had made himself into, to please him and let him use her as none had ever done before. As she watched the door swing open suddenly, she felt her heart start racing as if she were a mere two hundred years old again. She propped an arm against her chest, leaning over to provide a full view of her exposed cleavage. Giving him her very best bedroom eyes, biting her lip in just the way that she knew always drove him crazy, unleashing demons inside him that brought them both to unmatched peaks. Speaking of demons, there was one down below she was really looking forward to seei…She stopped, there was not the usual response of arousal that was torn forth from him, rather, his eyes were vacant as he stood there before her, shirtless, so damn handsome that it messed with her concentration. _

_Narza walked over to the bed, a three foot journey that seemed to stretch out leagues before him. With a pained grimace, he sat beside her, noting that she almost altogether dropped her pose, fearful of the grim expression he bore, he noted that her breasts were barely contained in her top, though the goddess hardly seemed to notice. While he called her his goddess every time he saw her, he'd come to think of her more as a lover, they'd grown far more comfortable together, he'd felt acceptance with her that he'd not known with any other person. But now, with this news, he was once more reminded of the rift between them, of mortals and creators. Even if her feelings for him were genuine, he'd just be another passing fancy, a distraction, and now her duties would take her away. He didn't know if he could endure that…_

"_Nalmika, my love…" He began, his voice quaking._

"_Yes Narza?" Gods her voice was so sweet when she was concerned, like a soothing lavender. Narza wrestled with himself even now, as the silence that divided them dragged on, longer and longer, over whether he could bring himself to ask her, to question a goddess, if he could accept her judgement. _

"_W...w..w" Narza stuttered. Nalmika was stunned, he was always so confident when he spoke, so sure of himself, it was one of the qualities that had drawn her to him, what could possible have her champion so flustered, so downtrodden? "When did….It's…" He tried again to speak, failed. Looking into Nalmika's concerned eyes, he sighed. "It's grim business...going to war. Not all men are as I am; Willing to lay themselves prostrate before you and accept your judgement…"_

"_W...Whatever are you talking about darling?" Nalmika laughed, nervously. Narza merely stared at her with those tired eyes, boring into her. Gods, he knew? "How do you-"_

"_There was a message bound straight for the king. I was interested, so I 'liberated' it," he lied, immediately hating himself for it, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her of his friend's hand in it. He wouldn't question their judgement when it came, but Narza didn't feel himself qualified to pass judgement on a man who'd done naught but good for the world, and simply didn't deign to comply with a single request of the gods. She gazed at him expectantly, as if she were still unsure as to what he was referring to. "It was a message from the high priest, of the obliteration of a remote village in Atharva by the Gods, I very much doubt it will be stopping there Nalmika." _

_Nalmika sank back on their bed a bit as the news came out, dazed. If news had come this quickly, then the six kingdoms would be in a panic soon enough, and they would prepare themselves for the battles to come. The sooner that happened, the longer the battle would be drawn out, and the harder it would be to see mankind eradicated. The gods could still perhaps take Atharva without issue, they couldn't know the sheer scale of the assault that was to be led, they wouldn't know the final objective, they still had surprise on their side. But that damnable king, Nalmika despised the fat oaf of a man the second she'd laid eyes on him, when he entered the courtyard during one of Narza's practice sessions to speak with one of the guard captains. He was a coward of a man, no doubt the letter advised him to run rather than to use La Veda as a proper fortress, good for her, she supposed, but still, she liked it when her prey fought her, not when it simply flew away…_

_She sighed, brushing back the hair from her face. Placing a small hand over Narza's, she began…_

'The path of a god is one steeped in agony, there are few pleasures I can enjoy as much as my time I've spent here, and now I must return to my work, grim though it may be, I shall see to it that you are rewarded.' Her words echoed in his mind, looping around it like a noose that threatened to tighten at any moment, and shatter his entire being into a million pieces. He could barely keep his memories coherent in the pain that engulfed him, barely could he feel even the cold stone he sat on, nor the wind whistling past him. 'This world is made of sinners, men too hungry for power to be allowed to continue poisoning the world we created, and so it must now be purged.' 'Today...You. ARE. Judgement.'

_The foyer of Castle La Veda was packed to bursting with hungry knights and guardsmen, their combined clamor and conversation drowning out every thought that sought to form itself in Narza's head. He caught himself staring at the towering stone entryway, for the first time in the past two months hoping against hope that he didn't see Nalmika. There was never a front gate guarding the castle, an old design that Narza was thankful was retained; the light of the gods was never to be denied entry anywhere, and so no gate barred its path. A gentle breeze passed through the hall, carrying a slight warmth and scattering the scent of roasting meats that had pervaded the halls, much to the disappointment of the assembled men. Narza listened in to some of their conversations, hoping to ease his tired mind. _

"_Where in the hells is the food? Bloody starvin'..."_

"_Ate, best we eat our fill, you lads 'erd what's goin' on o'er in 'Tharva?"_

"_Wot? Wot's happnin'?"_

"_Ey say 'at the gods sent an a'my uh beasts n' nasties an wiped out a whole town in seconds!" _

"_You're kiddin'!" _

"_Naw, serious as sin, me n' me gal 're 'eding out tonite. We got ourselves a couple o' rebel gods, always wanted ta smack one a' them! Aye, by this time next week, they're gonna be tellin' tales o' the great Halt, God Slayer!"_

"_Ha! That right? I wonder what Sir Narza thinks o' news like that?" _

"_Yeah! Ay Narza! What do ye have to say about yer precious gods attackin' Grand Gaia?"_

_It took a moment for Narza to return to himself and realise they were expecting an answer, he cleared his throat, finding a lump in it. _

"_We've angered the gods, and even now, when they threaten to extinguish our very species, rather than cower before your creators, beg them for forgiveness, you would go to war? Threaten to try and kill them? Blind fools!"The men began speaking again, no doubt scoffing at him, but he had eyes and ears only for the pale goddess that drifted into their hallowed halls, her stunning beauty hushing voices in her wake. " This world has sinned and tonight I shall do my part in its unmaking. Go to your knight's gathering, see what the king has to say to you and your fellows. Know that if I enter that castle, that I shall bring with me the light of ruin.' The words sprung to Narza's lips as he recalled what Nalmika had told him earlier that evening. When she finally reached his side, the hall was silent._

_She wore a thigh length dress, of her favorite of all flowers, the simple rose. A silver belt held it in place, embossed with a singular rose. Her emerald hair was accented now with streaks of scarlet and silver. She stood in thigh length boots, both a ghostly white, and covered in a number of thorns; decoration of course, though Narza wagered that a kick from them would result in decapitation. She placed a hand on his shoulder, his body stiffening in response; even after two months she still had that effect on him. He felt himself rising from his seat on instinct to greet her._

"_My lady." He knelt before her, clutching his sword to his breast, inspiring more than a few laughs from the men assembled. She smiled at him, a sad smile, she'd come to care for Narza, infinitely more than she thought she ever would. She'd loved the attention he showered her with, loved the man despite her best efforts. She'd spent the last few hours telling herself that it was just that Narza was a pious man, that if Phee were in her position that Narza would've acted just the same to her sister, but she couldn't picture it. She shook her head, there had to be some way she could keep him alive despite the edicts of her a wave of her hands, Narza's armor fell apart, clattering to the stone floor around him, leaving him bare as the day the gods put him in Grand Gaia. Nobody was laughing now, all eyes only for the goddess before them._

"_Rise, Narza." He did so, accepting his fate, he extended the hilt of his blade to her. _

"_Here, my goddess, you'll have need of this, I accept your judgement." And with that, something snapped in Nalmika, to hell with what the rest of the gods wished, Narza was hers, and he wouldn't be dying on her watch, especially not by her own hand. A devious idea began forming in her head. Wrapping her hands around Narza's she pushed the blade back to his chest. When he then gave her his confused look, appearing for all the world like a lost puppy, she kissed him. His response was tentative at best, but that was fine. She took the moment to drink in the scent of him, the jealous and lewd stares of his peers that wouldn't look away. She wished briefly that she was more like her older sister Torah; attached to no being other than her plants. _

"_You, are my judgement today Narza, use our sword, and strike down those who would oppose the gods." She spoke in a bare whisper, so that only he could hear. Her hand passed over a single lazy strand of hair that hung over his face, brushing it up to the crown of his head, the hair turning scarlet where she touched it. In a second the fire she'd always loved was back in his eyes, and for the barest second, she felt bad for all the soldiers around her Narza. He was once again a man with a purpose, and he took the blade happily. _

"_I have a request then." He told her simply._

"_Name it, my champion." She silently awaited his response, but her mind was screaming, 'Please, be selfish for once in your life! Say you don't want to die and I will happily grant that for you!" _

"_Make sure that nobody escapes this castle, if it is your will that they be cut down, then these stones shall run red my love…" _

_She gave him another sad smile, along with a playful shake of her head, as if she expected no less. With a snap of her fingers, she disappeared in a shower of rose petals, which earned her a number of astonished gasps. She reappeared a moment later at the entrance to the foyer, snapping her fingers again, the stones around her erupted. Two enormous pillars of vines shot forth from the earth, both ending at an enormous purple plant head, mouths curving into knife-like teeth, both dripping with venom. They were absolutely enormous, filling the whole of the entryway, they snapped hungrily at the nearest men, who shot up out of their seats and bolted to a safe distance, certainly, nothing was walking out of that hall. _

_And so all eyes were now on Narza, who stood at the center of the room, still completely naked. Some coughed, uncomfortably in the awkward situation they found themselves in, some cowered in fear, having seen Narza on the battlefield, others simply gazed at him in awe, now champion to a true god. Still more saw fit to begin hastily drawing weapons, if they'd brought any, which many hadn't, resorting instead to simple cutlery from the tables. _

"_By decree of the Goddess, Nalmika, and all her kin, all of mankind, shall perish before the gods! For we have sinned, and so now, the only atonement we may find, is in the shedding of our own blood, every man here, dies today! Now, who among you shall choose an honorable, willing death, for the gods you pledged to defend, and who among you, would take up your swords against me?"_

Soon the blood would cake on, and he'd not be able to wash away this deed. He could feel his mind deserting him, that singular lock of crimson hair always hanging at the center of his field of sight, making his vision swim. It called him to further bloodshed, silencing the protests his body put up. He stared down at the sword in his hands, the veins that seemed to strangle its silver blade had drank of the blood that it had been coated with during the massacre it had brought about. Now, the sword was pristine, a polished sheen about it.

There was an incessant pounding from somewhere ahead of him, echoed by a subsequent pounding in his head; somebody was climbing the Hundred Steps towards him. He needed a stiff drink, hell, he needed twelve. The pain threatened to overwhelm him once more, he lurched forward to vomit, but his stomach had long since emptied, with no outlet, the misery swam free through his troubled mind.

"_He's bloody naked boys! One good cut and he's good as dead, we'll see what them gods got to say to that!" Narza looked off to his right and immediately saw the man who'd spoken up. Said man, obviously not thinking he'd be the one out of hundreds in the room to be spotted and singled out, had not even taken up a knife to defend himself. Narza had passed through the throngs of men in a second and stood before the transgressor, who released a pent up breath all at once, as if he'd been punched. Narza paused for only for a moment, before ramming his blade through the man's chest. Killing a man felt...odd, it was disgusting in concept yet, invigorating somehow, entirely different from what he assumed it would feel like; just another activity, same as walking or breathing, natural and uneventful. He felt the look of shock on the man's face burn itself in his mind, he counted aloud as the life finally ebbed out of those terrified brown eyes._

"_One." To his left a soldier was reaching for the corpse of his friend, Narza tore his blade free of the body and plunged it directly between the man's eyes. "Two." Leaving the sword there a moment, he grabbed the soldier to his left by the head, giving it a violent twist until he heard a distinct snap of the man's neck, both bodies thudded to the ground in unison. "Three, who else?"_

" Wh..Who are you? What manner of blasphemy is this!" Blasphemy? BLASPHEMY!? And that voice, Narza had WORSHIPPED that voice as a babe; little did he know that the very same voice had been whispering heresy in the king's own ear. Most holy man in the Six Continents indeed.

" Zoltun Kain..." Narza rose to his feet, slowly, trembling, his bloodied claw-hands taking a firm grip on his sword. " I'm afraid that the king won't be admitting any visitors today, 'high priest'."

"What's happened? God's, what's happened to you, you're covered in blood my son." Kain was a gaunt man, known for fasting quite frequently in an effort to become closer to the gods, leaving him a walking skeleton it seemed. His face was drawn taut with worry lines, with high cheekbones and deep-sunken blue eyes. He seemed to be swimming in his several-sizes-too-big robes as he climbed the Steps towards Narza. As he came before the bloodied knight, he lifted a bony hand to Narza's face, wiping away some of the dried viscera. Narza slapped the hand away, his gray eyes burning with head twitched, a shooting pain lancing his brain as the sudden violent act called forth visions.

_His blade came down, severing a soldier's head from his shoulders, whirling about, he plunged the blade into the gut of another, thinking to flank him. "Thirty-five, thirty-six." It was as if he had eyes everywhere, he wasn't just aware of the men closing in behind him, but he could actually SEE them, the sweat dripping down one's face, his sword shaking in his hands. Narza turned to face said soldier, the trembling blade fell from his grasp, and he promptly took off running. Narza reacted instantly, moving to intercept, in scarcely a second he was blocking the man's path, surrounded by men quivering in fear away from the conflict, he swung his blade with such terrible force that it separated the man from his hips, which tumbled to the floor in a bloody heap. "Thirty seven."_

"My son? What ails you? What's happened here, I want to help you!" Kain was shaking him, not exactly helping with his headache. That face, Narza suddenly felt impelled to bloodlust, to see that head roll on the stones beneath him. His eyes locked on something red at the edge of his vision, that damned lock of hair! It was driving him mad, he lurched forward, as if to strike the priest, but he stopped himself. He wouldn't draw blood again, he wouldn't! But that half of his mind, that hatred that festered like an open wound, it fought him. The priest saw the conflict in Narza's face. "Whose blood is this?"

"Th...Theirs!" Narza choked out.

_Pained cries as Narza advanced on the clusters of men that chose not to take up their swords against him, he cut out their throats, one, by one, some tried to run, but with the exit barred by Nalmika's vines, they had nowhere to go. _

"Whose?"

_An old guard collapsed, gasping out his last and holding his chest to keep his newly exposed organs inside himself. "two-hundred nine"_

" The La Vedan knights and soldiers."

"The king's assembly? How man-"

_Narza hated himself by now, but he wasn't even using the blade anymore, he held a man in one hand by the throat, the sack of flesh flopped about and squirmed, but his grip was steel, and soon those flailing limbs gave out. "Four-hundred fifty-nine"_

"All of them, six-hundred twenty-seven men, all dead." Kain paled, clasping his hands together in a silent prayer.

" And the king?"

_His grisly task completed, Narza sank, sank to the ground where he stared into the open green eyes of a disembodied head. He'd not liked any of them, but to snuff out a life, that felt like too great a burden. He vomited, letting the putrid bile flow until there was nothing left in him, and then he wept. He wept even after his eyes burned red and dry, wept because there was still work to be done. Sniffling, recoiling at the stench of decay that had already begun to pervade the hall, he forced himself to his feet. His whole body was covered in blood and bile, he made his way onwards, deeper into the castle, onwards, to the king. _

"Dead. Just like the rest of them, the king is dead." Kain trailed past him, too stunned to trust himself to hold up the bloodied man, the sole survivor of whatever massacre had taken place, his own knees trembled as he glanced inside and saw the knight's words to be true; red as far as the eye could see.

"Wh...what killed them?" Narza felt himself begin shaking as the priest asked that, a lump caught in his throat at the sheer enormity of the truth of the matter, he shuddered, unable to let it out.

"_Six-hundred twenty-six," He counted aloud as the last of the guard fell. The king stood aghast at the display of carnage before him, if only he knew what horrors lay scattered about his castle now, servants, maids, sentries, captains, officials, emissaries, couriers, chefs, all dead. His full face that normally lay flushed red with the wine that fattened his belly and blurred his mind so often was now bled white with fear. Narza advanced on him, backing the pathetic excuse for a monarch to his throne. Seizing the coward by his thick black beard, Narza tugged him forwards, causing the king to cry out, whimpering in pain. _

"What killed them my son, please, I must know!"

"_For half my life I have been made to protect you, and to do your bidding, incompetent as you were. I despise you and your ken, 'your majesty', those who would flaunt their power, use it to acquire anything their hearts desire, rather than to use it to better the lives you are meant to protect. And with all your power, you think yourselves, untouchable, higher even than the gods that made you, well now it is the gods will that you be unmade. And since you were so keen on leaving your kingdom later this evening, perhaps I'll be kind enough to send at least some of you to your destination." The king gulped, his mouth gone deathly dry, rendering him unable to speak up in response. "By order of the Goddess Nalmika, I am your judgement this day Deckard La Veda, King of this land, king no longer, for you thought to escape the gods. Alas for you, blind fool." And the blade of the gods had tasted royal blood, as it was driven through the King's throat, and severed it from its perch atop the fat ball of flesh it had once called a body. _

"PLEASE! WHAT KIL-"

"I did."

"Wha-"

Narza lunged forwards suddenly, wrapping his right arm around the priest's neck from behind, his left hand firmly gripping his sword. His gray eyes were savage, bloodshot, furious. The priest whimpered, and Narza could feel the man's throat moving beneath his arm, listening closely, he heard the faint rasps of air as Kain quietly prayed to the gods for forgiveness, his grip tightened.

"I used to worship you you know? You were my idol, my conduit to the gods, I learned everything from you, and here I find out that despite all your preachings and alms of the gods and their wisdom, you are a mere pharisee, as you confer with the king and tell him to defy the will of the selfsame gods you claim to serve! Zoltun Kain, by order of the Goddess Nalmika and all her peers, I sentence you to death. LIAR!" Narza drove his blade into Kain's side, the priest's slight frame shuddered violently, another sharp constriction on his throat caused the scream that rose to his pale lips to die out to a mere wisp of air. Drawing the sword out of the smaller man, Narza switched hands, holding Kain with his left while with his right he plunged the blade back in, this time to Kain's lung, "HYPOCRITE!" He pulled out again, and, making sure no strikes cut anything that would kill the priest, began punctuating every word with a swift, violent stab. "THIEF!" "SELF-RIGHTEOUS-IDIOT-OF-A-MAN!" Satisfied, Narza tore his sword free once last time from the bloody punctured canvas he'd made of the high priest's back, and discarded it at his feet. Whirling the dying man on his feet, he grabbed Kain by the scruff of his robes, surprised at the feather-like weight of him, and unceremoniously cast the man down the Hundred Steps. There were several long moments where the air was filled with his screams, which even now were sputtered out through two punctured lungs, then a loud crunch as his body slammed into a sharp stone step and his skull cracked open, staining it red, and at last, blissful silence.

And once more, Narza was alone.

He had performed the will of his goddess, and now there was but one soul left.

With his limbs now lead from their long hours of butchery, he stooped down and grabbed his blade one final time, forcing the claws his hands had become to conform to its hilt, he gulped. It was one thing to lay his life at the hands of the gods, quite another to take that responsibility in his own hands. For once he was thankful of the weariness in his body, even if he wanted to, it didn't have the energy left now to let go of his blade, or even to move from his current position. He had all the time in the world, and a light waiting for him when he was ready. Slowly, he placed the point of the blade at his heart, closed his eyes, and with heavy breaths, he spoke.

"Oh gods above... may you bless this humble knight….living vessel of your power..that I may use it, one last time, to rend sin from the world that you so graciously created, and we so willingly corrupted. I shall end it for you, and you alone...and bring back light to your world….darkened...by the seeds of hatred, and deceit. Amen."

"Very well, your wish is granted." Narza blinked.

"Wh..who-"

"In your hands, my liege."

Narza looked at his sword, and nearly dropped it in fright. A single crimson eye glared at him from its hilt, wisps of bright blue and purple light seethed from it, and there was suddenly a distinct, overwhelming sense of _power_ in the air. " It is good to finally meet you, my liege. Eager though I'm sure you are, I shall not be spilling your blood this day."

"Who, _are_ you?" Narza whispered to it, awed.

"I am he who commands the armies of the heavens. It would seem your goddess of ivy is your guardian angel my liege, for I come before you with a special assignment." The voice was deep, powerful, it thrummed in Narza's skull like the strike of a gong, and he felt his very body shake with its strength, yet it didn't feel physical, the voice was directly in his head.

"And what then can I call you, my lord who communes with Nalmika?"

"I am Cardes. One of the six high gods that rule our domain in the heavens." Narza was stunned needless to say, to be contacted by Cardes, one of the four members of the high council alongside Maxwell, Zevalhua, and Alfa DIlith, beneath the king of the gods Karna Mastah, and his lieutenant Lucius. Unsure of how to conduct himself, he bent to one knee, bowing before the the blade that housed Lord Cardes. Cardes chuckled, a smooth, resonating sound, it was the kind of voice Narza would follow to the ends of the earth.

"Rise my liege, I need not your formalities. I have an assignment for you, and my dear Nalmika has informed me that you are the perfect man for it."

"You need only say the word my lord, my soul is yours to command, to what end would you have me serve?"

"Hehe, so very willing, that is good… My liege, you have shown me that there are those among your race who still have faith in the gods, and I task you with bringing them together. You shall assemble your coalition of the faithful, those who would still serve us, against those that seek to rebel. You shall bring them together, your Gods Army, and you shall bring ruin upon the traitors and sinners of the world."

"My lord, why do you continue to refer to me as 'my liege'?"

"Well, every army needs a home, and I think La Veda is the perfect home for them. And last I checked, their monarch has been slain, I do believe it's in need of a new one, someone more befitting of the title. Don your armor now, King Narza." A flash of light erupted from the eye that Cardes spoke through, Narza had to shield his eyes. When he looked again, he was fully clad once more in his silver armor, polished to a shine. "Now, my duties require that I divert my full attention elsewhere, but I shall leave you with a gift, and you shall be my eyes and ears in Grand Gaia."

The wisps of power that emanated from the blade began to circle Narza now, and he could only watch in wonder as they began, one by one, disappearing into the red gems that were embedded throughout his armor. He felt power blooming in each of them, and gradually they each began to take on a glassy appearance, their perfect red hues suddenly blotted out, black circles appearing over each of them. They looked just like...eyes.

"Go now, King Narza, and assemble our army, I shall be here, to guide you when you require it, but only as long as you remain useful to me. I spare you now on the wish of another, do not make me regret that. And do not fail me."

**Alright, end note. Zelnite, I know! Soon! I promise, I want the Chronicles of Zelnite to be the crowning achievement of my writing, so everything needs to be absolutely perfect! Once I get this chapter out though, it's gonna snowball, you mark my words my friends, there are big plans for our emerald clad man of the night. And as for Narza, well, you'll just have to stay tuned and find out :D Farewell for now dear readers! **


	3. Emotions

_**The Mad Swordsman's Descent : Emotions**_

"FRIAR BOY!" Narza, now king of La Veda, leapt in his bed, waking with a shuddering heart, a cold sweat on his brow, thrashing his limbs to ward off some nonexistent opponent. He fought his way free of the heavy red velvet sheets, as if they were a sheet of vipers. His actions roused the second form in the bed, who gave a low purr of contentment.

"Ohh Narza," She moaned, feeling hot breath against her ear," I know the idea of our first battle's seen you stressed, but you're more insatiable than I a-" The sensual Ivy Goddess lifted her heavy eyelids, her violet pupils meeting the warm brown eyes and golden hair of a small puppy, whose tiny paws sat heavily on her exposed breasts. She screamed, a very guttural, unladylike sound. "Mangy, filthy thing, those are NOT for you!" She took a paw in either delicate hand, lifting the small panting dog onto its hind legs, before it unceremoniously dropped dead, she pushed the corpse over the edge of the bed, where it landed on the floor with a loud _thump!_

Rising with a groan from their bed, Nalmika studied the darkened room, making a mental note to chastise that child Tia for allowing her beasts to run wild. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she stewed in her anger, her sleep-addled mind not yet able to properly sort out her own emotions. When she could finally make out shapes in the dark, she silently plodded her way over to the balcony of their bedroom, where a steady moonbeam filtered in through open doors. She crept up silently behind Narza, who'd donned a plain black robe over himself. She pressed herself into him, draping her arms over his neck to trace lazy circles along his chest, causing him to tense up at first.

He relaxed into her caress once he realized it was her, allowing his worries to dissolve into the feel of her nails running along his chest, the slight sting he'd known to accompany them trailing in their wake.

"Cold tonight hm?" He grinned, feeling her breasts pressed into his back. She slapped him playfully, and they exchanged a light laugh, both still too tired to fully register much. It had taken quite some time for Narza to grow comfortable with his moonlit reveries being joined by Nalmika, being a goddess, she possessed none of the human tripes of decency and indecency, her nude form on display for any who dared to look. A goddess at his back, a kingdom at his fingers, he was truly blessed. though while he could keep one goddess sated, he couldn't keep all the gods of Grand Gaia happy.

"Lord Cardes isn't pleased." Now it was Nalmika's turn to stiffen, with a defeated sigh, she bent her neck, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. Her hair fell in a curtain down his front, all cherry red now, she said that it was easier for the people to accept her like that. Narza found that he liked it this way.

"What more could you do? You've built an army of renegades to rival the strength of any of the kingdoms."

"He's not concerned with my progress in assembling the Gods Army, he's actually expressed to me that I've exceeded his expectations in that regard, he's irritated with my inhibitions on the matter, my emotions make me weak he tells me." He felt her shake against him, for a moment he thought she was shivering, quickly corrected though when she began speaking.

"How...can he expect, even MORE!?" She was _livid_. "You've gone far beyond what any of us expected out of a human, and a little trepidation erases all the good in that!?" Narza turned his head, planting a kiss on Nalmika's forehead, easing her quaking form, though he could feel her rage like a physical weight on his shoulders.

"There's little point in getting worked up over the matter Nalmika, this is a something that only I can solve after all." He could tell she was hardly placated, but she let it pass, he blew out a breath, he took her hands, now over his chest, in his, settling into a companionable silence. A light breeze passed through, whipping up a wave of silver and red as Narza's hair blew with it. He observed the city around him as Nalmika shuffled closer to him, her warm body a comfort to him.

The walls of La Veda had nearly doubled in size since he'd risen to power, an impregnable bastion of the god's power. The streets of the city had all been widened to admit supply wagons easy access. Long warehouses dotted the city now, contained within them a collective inventory of enough arms to supply an army triple the size of anything Grand Gaia had ever seen, foodstuffs to sustain the entire city for months, and the cut stone to more than double the city's size if they needed to, the gods were certainly generous. The homes of the people remained largely untouched by the engine of war; as king, Narza had seen to it that the people weren't trampled underfoot so long as everybody did their part, the men all toiled, either in industry or as soldiers, the women were kept busy preparing clothing and food for the army, even the children found their work in all manner of tasks, from runners and messengers, keeping the homes alongside their mothers, and even menial work such as fletching arrows or polishing the armor to equip nearly half a million men. The people of La Veda kept busy.

Beyond the city limits, lamps and campfires burned by the thousands, a brilliant sea of stars over the lush green fields, watched over by the light of the moon. They were ready and able to mobilize, and Narza only stayed the command until he received further instructions from Lord Cardes.

"An impressive feat you've accomplished here, King Narza." The voice had Narza in motion instantly, drawing Cardes' sword from beneath his robes. Nalmika let out a shriek as Narza suddenly disappeared from her, causing her to stumble forward, scrambling for a handhold as she fell. Narza shot like a bolt of light at the intruder, his shoulder ramming cold metal, carrying the form into the far wall, which filled the room with the sound of crunching stone. Narza looked up into the man's face, a gaunt face with skin like ash, the whites of his eye a disturbing coal black, a single lambent red eye glared down at Narza. A head of windblown, fiery orange hair parted around two black horns, both adorned with brilliant gold inlay. Over his right eye was a triangular cloth bound around his head. The man bared his teeth in a savage smile, displaying a mouthful of teeth filed to knife's points. "Let me assure you, my liege, it's just as much an honor to finally meet you, but perhaps a hardy handshake will suffice."

Narza removed his shoulder to allow the man to fall, except instead he seemed to float down to the ground. Narza leveled his blade at the being's throat, his expression stony, unamused.

"Who are you?" The man took a brief glance at the blade pointed at him, smiling.

"Name's Luther sire, nice blade, Cardes ain't one to give his blessing so easily, so if ya don't mind, I'd like to show you mine."

Luther's hand shot up, knocking aside the sword, then slamming an open palm into Narza's chest, pushing the king back a few steps. Quickly following up, he made a swiping gesture, and out of thin air sprung a sword of flame that flew at Narza. Recovering from being knocked back, Narza deflected the blade with his own, which sent a jarring pain through his arm as it dissipated back into the air it spawned from, he ignored it though as another blade appeared to take its place, seeking to impale him. Narza grunted in frustration, his blinding speed still barely keeping up as Luther picked up his pace. Those fiery blades not only left Narza in a bind, but also left the room in tatters, appearing from any possible angle and location, and in ever growing numbers, shearing through chairs, the bed, several tables and cabinets, and leaving scorch marks on each, curiously enough not setting them ablaze. Narza desperately wished now that he had his armor, the many eyes dotting its silver metal would easily allow him to keep track of the relentless attacks, but as it was he needed to devote everything to avoiding and deflecting what he could see.

"Very good! Now though, let's step this up!" Whirling about to face Luther, Narza was just in time to see two more blades coming, they passed to either side of him before suddenly changing course, piercing the trailing ends of the robe that swam around Narza's feet, anchoring him and binding his arms back. Narza didn't even blink, studying Luther as the man took hold of another summoned blade, springing at Narza. The king waited...waited...waited...then sprung into action. As Luther ate the distance between them, Narza flicked his wrist, sending his sword spinning into the air over him, he tore his arms free and pulled away from his robe, he caught the twirling hilt, and put all his strength into bashing aside Luther's blade, who gave a grunt as he stumbled, the blade in his hands dissolving. Letting his momentum carry him, Narza spun into an overhead slash, stopping the blessed steel just shy of Luther's neck.

Luther knelt, raising his hands in surrender, a peculiar smirk playing on his lips.

"Bravo, I do say, bravo sire, not just anyone can defeat Luther the Destroyer," Luther's voice shifted suddenly, his tones now silky, baritone, with elegant rolled r's. "If I were anymore a civilized opponent, this would be the end of me. Unfortunately for you though, I'm not." Raising a black gloved hand, Luther pulled his eyepatch and swapped it to his other eye. The empty eye socket that Luther bared at Narza erupted with flames, lending the man a sinister appearance. Narza reacted a moment too late, leaping back as two great chains of fire shot forth from Luther's being. The chains looped themselves around both his arms and legs, pulling tight and causing him to cry out as he felt the chains burn to the bone, the ends of his shackles biting into the floors and ceiling, leaving him suspended, at Luther's mercy. "There, I rather like you like this, like a pup trying to imitate his parents' savagery, ultimately helpless. Such a compromising position," Luther added, the flames in his eye socket shifting, as if looking up and down Narza's now bare flesh, "I'll bet Nalmika's enjoyed seeing you like this on more than one occasion" Narza's eyes shot open at this, his vision suddenly a red that wasn't on account of that lock of hair.

"Do NOT so much as breathe her name you cur!" With a very guttural sound the likes of which even hell wouldn't spawn, Narza _heaved_ at his bindings, gritting his teeth through the bone scorching pain, Luther laughed.

"Don't attempt to fight the fires of hell itself my liege, a hundred generations of saints and killers couldn't, so don't waste the breath and marrow." Yet despite his assurances, Luther tensed as a low rumble began to echo, glancing up, his eyes widened in surprise, Narza was making the stones around them that his chains were hooked to _move_. "Oh my Me. Tougher than brimstone you are," he complimented, thoroughly impressed," Nalmika must _love _you."

"If I am destined to hellfire, then I've nothing to fear in combating it, you on the other hand, shall not find a plane of existence nearly so forgiving when I'm done with you for that comment."

"Uh uh uh my liege, it's not conducive to your health to trade blows with a god." Wagging a finger at Narza, Luther approached the struggling monarch, hooking a hand beneath Narza's chin, tilting his head to meet the gaze of that raging inferno. "Now, just look at me, and you'll be, in a land of death and desolation." Narza _screamed_.

It felt like his mind was being liquefied, gazing at that burning pit he was no longer aware of the room around him. Everything was smoke and ruin, fields of broken skulls, roads paved with bone, from beings great and small; some clear and white, others yellowed with age, yet even more were still caked red with gore. His very skin was aflame, and he thrashed violently, tearing with his arms that they might rip the infernal tissue from his body. And such agony as no man, saint or sinner ever deserved to face wracked the entirety of his being. He opened his mouth to scream and only served to open the gates for the fire to funnel down. His stomach felt like it was exploding, he vomited flame that further charred his throat and scoured his form. The flames licked even at the backs of his eyes, his screaming intensified, but he couldn't even blink to shut it all out.

"STOP IT!" The voice pierced Narza's own personal hell, Nalmika's. Then all at once the fire and death dissolved, and he was back in the bedroom, but that didn't rid him of the pain.

"Very well," Luther sighed, and with a snap of his fingers, the chains binding Narza dissolved, dropping him to the floor. Narza could still feel the fire, still taste death on his tongue, even if he couldn't see it. His body seized up, curling and burrowing into itself until his knees were tucked to his chin and he found himself rocking back and forth, whimpering softly. He felt Nalmika gently run a hand over his arm, trying to comfort him, but he couldn't even trust himself to speak to her through his burning throat and churning stomach.

"What have you done!?" Nalmika demanded, rising from Narza's body to storm over to Luther. The god grinned, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Just reminding the mortal of the pecking order, sister." He looked past her, moving his eyepatch back over. "I only held him for a minute, I could've done far worse to him," he said with that cruel smile, "he'll be fine by morning. He's really a cute dog Nalmika, you welp him yourself?" Nalmika slapped him, her toxin-ridden nails leaving several smoking furrows in his cheek.

"Go to hell, you brute."

"Funny you should mention that actually sister, you see, I actually came for you."

"I knew you were a sick dog Luther, now what little plane of oblivion did they drag you out of to be here?" Luther actually frowned at this jab, genuinely irked it seemed.

"You flatter yourself dearest sister," his red eye swept over her nude form, a look somewhere between apathy and disgust playing on his face," you've soiled yourself with a mortal, I've hardly the stomach for such a thing. I don't know why I'd fostered hope that you'd be pleased to see your brother again after all these centuries. And to answer your ever so elegantly worded jab, Lord Cardes has given me a price, a million human skulls for my continued freedom. I'll be fighting alongside the king here." Nalmika scowled.

"Figures, the only thing you ever displayed any skill in was burning ants with a looking glass. So, to what do I owe the pleasure then?" Nalmika expected her insults to meet further sneers and rage, the cruel, twisted smile that touched Luther's lips though, that was infinitely more terrifying.

"Ah yes, you see, Lord Cardes has requested an audience." Nalmika shrugged, unfazed. "But, he has remarked his request, as secondary." She blinked, Cardes, willingly accept second priority? To who? Luther chuckled, seeing the flicker of confusion in her eyes, and answering the unspoken question, "your sister wishes to see you again." No. NO! No no no no, not her, ANYTHING but her.

"Which one you dunce?" She countered weakly, attempting to play it out, but Luther didn't even flinch, his smile widening.

"You know who, _Nalmykins_." Nalmika flinched at the mention of her sister's pet name for her, gods above it'd only been two hundred years, she'd not fully recovered her wits since last time! "Lord Cardes requests you get a full night's rest, and I shall take you at noon on the morrow, it's well known how you need your preparations before seeing her. I'll return in the morning, rest well. You'll need it." With one final maniacal laugh, Luther sunk into the floor, swallowed by a fiery portal underfoot, once more leaving Nalmika and Narza alone.

Nalmika fell to her knees, her eyes wide in terror. Her hand reached out mechanically, stroking it gently though Narza's hair, which was soaked cold with sweat, as she tried desperately to still her own beating heart. Tomorrow she'd need to face her sister, the blessed child, symbol of all her failures and shortcomings. Gods came away from her sister's 'visits' broken, beings present since the dawn of creation, and they were rocked to their core. Most times Nalmika wasn't so lucky. She lay beside Narza, curling up to his body and joining him in his whimpering, embracing the cold stone of the floor that was to be their bed that night. She sobbed, softly, into his neck, for what felt like hours, until the barest light of dawn began to shine into their ruined bedroom, and her tears finally drowned her sorrows, she drifted off to sleep knowing that she'd face her sister when she woke. And she dreamt, her nightmares a memory, simply sitting at a grand oak table, sitting beside her sister, looking into those sinister blue eyes.

The eyes, of Tora.

….

Nalmika awoke, face down in a pool of vomit, and she honestly couldn't tell herself that it wasn't her own. Wiping sleep from her eyes, she found her heavy red blanket draped over her body. This caused her to realize that Narza was absent from her side.

She'd grown so soft.

It used to be that she could have any god (with the occasional goddess) or man spun about her finger in a second. She was able to treat them to the night of their lives and shed them like a dirty dress the next morning, sated. Narza though, Narza was so very different than, well anyone really. To anyone else she was a night of carnal, animalistic release, and she'd been content with that, she was a goddess after all, and she had more important matters to attend to on the daily than a libido. But Narza, to him she was a lifetime of devotion, of passion and adoration, of bruising, rough love and feather soft kisses. Mortals had sold their souls in service to the gods, and none of them were half as loyal to their patrons as Narza was to her, and he'd not sold himself, had never been the man to come forward and request immortality alongside her, no, he'd only ever bared his soul to be cast into the void, so sure was he in his subservience to the gods. In her eyes, he was one of the most incredible beings ever to be created.

And by all the other gods she needed him right now.

For the first time in almost a year now she'd woken of her own accord, not to the touch of her king, the gentle kisses up and down her neck, and it wasn't until then and there that she realized how important those things were to her. Her limbs felt weak, their purpose lost, she just wanted to lie there.

She'd grown so soft.

A pair of hands that weren't hers lifted the sheets from her body, before gently turning her onto her back, cradling her head to prevent her hair from being soiled. It was already drenched in wretched bile, why would anyone… She was hoisted into the air as if she weighed nothing, and pressed to a warm body, rippling with muscle. She smiled, burrowing into the muscular chest of her Narza as he carried her who-knows-where, not that she minded, at the moment, she just needed him to hold her, to keep her away from Cardes' Palace, away from him, from Luther, from...her.

"He was your brother?"

"W...whaa?" She slurred, surprised by her own voice, the weakness in it, she felt abruptly like emptying the contents of her stomach, so it _had_ been hers, humbling. _Oh, Luther, right, that asshole_. "Luther, yeah, that asshole's kin." Narza chuckled, a deep, rhythmic vibration that coursed over his chest and felt absolutely divine, she could sleep through war to the lovely tones it produced. "What's so….funny?" She yawned.

"I've not heard the Goddess of Ivy to swear before, especially not of others."

"Ohhh shut up, I've said far worse in the bedroom." Narza laughed at this, a rich throaty sound, Nalmika smiled. "Loathe as I am to say it, he is a god though." Narza grunted in acknowledgment.

"Luther the Destroyer, gods, I thought your sister was the epitome of negative qualities in the heavens."

"Yes, indeed she still may be, believe it or not." He frowned down at her, puzzled.

"I would never think you'd thought anything but the best of her."

"What!? Heavens no, she's a wicked, manipulative li-oh…" _Oh_. He meant Phee, or course, he'd never met _her_, he didn't know, Luther was a dying ember compared to the hellfire that burned in _her_.

Narza's face was etched with concern, a question on his open lips, begging to be voiced, but he closed them, thinking better of it. They entered into the small washroom adorning the bedroom, and Nalmika found a basin of steaming water, a small table beside it adorned with fine soaps and several rags. As if she were a doll of porcelain, he lowered her, softly as a feather into the water, where she sighed in appreciation at the soothing heat, then he planted a loving kiss on her forehead. He moved to leave, to give her the privacy, to preserve the dignity of washing her own vomit from her own hair. Unconsciously, her hand shot out, latching onto this hairless arm, _dignity be damned_. She didn't need to speak, didn't dare to, lest she crack, but he understood, she needed him.

He stood behind her, taking a rag from the small table, lathering it with a rosy soap, and began. He lifted her arm, slowly and meticulously running the rag over every inch of her pale flesh, his worship silent, yet steady as ever. He pressed his bare chest to her back, a constant physical presence, yet not seeking to overwhelm her, not showering her with his usual kisses. He worked slowly and methodically, never speaking, he knew she was fighting herself over something, she'd speak when she was ready.

While mere minutes ago she'd yearned for his touch, the comfort his arms provided, she couldn't feel more alien, couldn't feel colder despite the steaming water. While his fingers worked into her hand, gently massaging it, she saw naught but those blue seas of void and despair, the eyes of that demon child. Her sister, centuries her junior, yet superior, favored eternally, only her physical form was inferior, ye given a few millennia, even that would surpass hers. Her mind suddenly conjured the image of Narza, slaving over a taller, buxom Tora, her emerald hair a waterfall over him as he showered her neck with his loving kisses, meeting his silver-eyed gaze with those possessive cerulean orbs, smiling that crooked little-

She screamed, her limbs breaking the surface of the water as she flailed, lashing out at that conniving, busty, show-offy little husband-stealing…

She wasn't there, she wasn't there, she's but a child yet, _steady yourself Nalmika. Husband-stealing? Where did that come from?_

Narza's hands returned at her shoulders, massaging them to ease the tension from her bones. She sighed, relaxing into his embrace. He still didn't ask her anything.

_Dammit, ask me what's wrong!_

His hands worked fiery, painful relief as they danced expertly down her back, she moaned, trying to ease into it, yet her heart still felt heavy, her throat tight, mind cloudy, body tensed.

_Please, I don't want to talk about her..._

"You're quite tense my love," he stated simply, commenting as casually as one might acknowledge the weather. Her breath hitched. _It's just a massage Nalmika, he's no mind reader, he probably doesn't even know anything's wrong, of course he's casual about it._ She realized that she'd been holding her breath, her heart pounding, but she couldn't bring herself to release it.

_Oh you bastard, you're good._ She turned blue.

"I don't want to go!" She finally choked out, air rushing back into her lungs, Narza's hands continued, unabated.

"Breathe now my dear." She did, sinking herself a few inches deeper into the water, her eyes downcast, dejected. "Now, where do you not want to go?" His voice was so patronizing, protective, at once Nalmika was furious at his casual attitude, at herself for not speaking, she was on the verge of tears, overwhelmed by the magnitude of her plight and the joy she felt at the acceptance Narza had to show her. Her mind was reeling, she had no idea what to do, what to say, how to begin. She wasn't going to cry, that was for sure.

She hiccuped. Blinked. Had she just done that? Her? A godde-

She hiccuped again. _What the hell?_

_AGAIN!_

Narza laughed at her, and her lip quavered, her eyes filling up with tears, beautiful glistening tears that set the world in an eerie, wobbling filter that distorted everything in sight. Tears began running, staining her cheeks with moisture, but she wasn't crying dammit!

_If I hiccup, one more time, I will tear out my own vocal chords._

His laughter continued, ringing in her ear, she was NOT crying.

Another hiccup. _That's it! I'm reaching down my own throat and tearing these infernal things out._

And she was screaming, and laughing with him, and sobbing, spasming against Narza, who wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close to him, comforting her. At that moment, she had her peace, he was her world, every ounce of emotion still in her she poured into him, to allow everything to dissolve into his embrace.

She'd grown so soft.

After what felt like an eternity the emotional torrent, she finally calmed, her sobs soft and infrequent, yet she felt tremendously… calm all of a sudden, relieved of her burdens, _curious_… Narza had a knowing smile on his face, _bastard,_ she tried to scowl, but her mouth betrayed her, spreading into a wide smile, and she told him everything. She told him about Tora, about their toxic relationship, of her failure in the service of Lord Cardes thousands of years before that had made him see fit to create the child, an eternal reminder of that failure, a creature birthed without compassion or heart as the rest of Maxwell's children, but one solely of Cardes, of his ambition and ruthless desires. And she had to meet with Tora, and she let it be known that she was terrified, Narza gave her shoulders a squeeze to comfort her, then surprised her.

"Then I'm going with you."

"NO! She'll-" Chew you up and spit you out. Destroy me in a thousand new ways when she learns of you. See you far worse than Luther could ever leave you. _Steal you away from me_…"Ruin you." It was weak, she knew it, so did he.

"If it be my life to see you happy, then it is mine to happily give." _Oh enough of your noble sacrifice nonsense! _She argued with him, but he was adamant, he'd be going with her, no matter what she told him.

"Nobody will allow you near me with her in the room!" But he was starting to pull her hair up into her favorite little pointed buns, fingers passing through each strand to ensure he'd thoroughly cleaned them. She despaired, he'd done some dangerous, stupid things in his service to her, but this was overstepping his boundaries, the Palace of the Gods was a massive step up from an undefended castle, they'd destroy him. She told him as much as he lifted her from her bath, he dismissed her objections with the same noble hogwash as he dried her. Kissing her, he hurried from the room to fetch her a dress.

As he breezed by her, she had the opportunity to observe the damage done to him. His arms were charred black at the forearms, white glints of bone visible at the center of the affected areas. He wore a light pair of trousers now, but she expected similar marks on his legs from Luther's attacks.

He was walking with a limp.

So great was his care for her that he ignored his pain, had lifted and carried her despite his injuries, and he wanted to accompany her straight into the closest thing to hell in Grand Gaia. She clucked her tongue, smiling inwardly as she shook her head at Narza, who stopped in his tracks. With a snap of her fingers, her form was engulfed in a bright white light. Moments later, she was clad in her favorite rosy garb, she did NOT need his assistance picking out a _dress_ of all things.

"Alright then," she said simply, goading him.

"Alright?" Folded arms, raised eyebrow, she loved playing him.

"Alright, you may come, get your armor." He blinked, briefly stunned, before he warily complied, leaving the room to fetch his blessed suit. While she waited for him, she smoothed out the ends of her dress, making sure that her hair was perfectly coiffed, belt secured, polished. It wouldn't do to look any less than her best around the others at the Palace, she'd need all the confidence she could get, save the weakness for Tora.

Narza was back by her side in the span of a breath, tucking an errant strand of her now pure green hair behind her ear, his silver eyes full of admiration.

"You'll be fine." He soothed her, his hand passing gently through her hair. she knew he'd meant it as comforting, but it certainly didn't come across as such, she shuddered against him.

"You don't know her Narza, you can't fathom the workings of her mind, she burrows into you, takes your words and twists them, learns more in an instant of you talking to her than one might learn spending lifetime with you, there's a reason I'm not the only god who dreads time around her, she's Cardes' keystone, how he keeps everyone in check."

"And you're mine," for whatever reason, this caused a warmth to bloom in her chest, moved by the sentiment, which made her scowl.

She'd grown so soft

Narza's eyes softened, afraid that he'd offended her, he took his arms away. _No, don't, it wasn't you, I- No. _

So, so soft, not today, she couldn't afford soft today.

"Oh my, a lover's quarrel?" Nalmika's hands balled into fists at her sides, Luther, damn him. "I do so regret not being able to watch this play out, but you do have prior engagements, Nalmykins."

Narza whipped around, his right arm shooting out, his hand wrapping around Luther's throat, his divine strength allowing him to lift Luther off the ground. The god chuckled at him, thoroughly amused, the lack of oxygen not moving him in the slightest. "You and I appear to have very different recollections of how this ended last night, my liege." With a cruel smile, Luther shifted his eyepatch, baring the inferno on Narza, who bared his own toothy, sinister grin. With a distinct ring of metal over leather, Narza unsheathed his sword, burying the blade into the side of the god's head, passing straight through the other end, bloodless. The air hung still, silence in the small room save for the faint earthy crackling of what sounded like a campfire burning form that empty eye socket. Luther smiled, a genuine smile like a parent catching their child stealing sweets, he shook his head, amused.

"You know, I'm impressed actually, most people only think about doing this, but nobody ever goes through with it." Calmly, as if it were an everyday event, Luther took hold of the hilt of the blade, and gave it a quick jerk, turning his entire head, a loud _crack! _resounded from his neck. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, it is enchanted steel after all." Another jerk, the other way this time, his head was nearly turned entirely backwards. "But it doesn't quite work that way, I will let it slide however, I've been trying to work out that knot all day." Nalmika released a pent up breath, afraid Luther would've started something.

"I should've known a shard of metal through that empty head of yours wouldn't do anything," Narza jabbed, grinning as he lowered Luther back to the ground. Luther looked briefly annoyed, then in the span of a breath was all smiles again, _oh no, _Nalmika sighed.

"You know Narza, you seem terribly on edge, mayhaps you need a vacation, war's a terribly stressful business. Perhaps a return trip to yesterday's hotspot will see you calmed a bit." Narza smiled back, predatory.

"Or perhaps a glimpse into somebody else's mind is in order." Narza grabbed his blade, jerking Luther's head aside and pulling the sword free in a single fluid motion. Luther whipped his head around, baring his fangs, Narza reversed his grip on the sword, the burning, golden Eye of Cardes, which grew to twice its normal size, angry looking and glaring upon Luther's empty eye.

Luther cried out, a pained wail on his lips as he stumbling back, a hand over his eye, wisps of smoke pouring between his fingers, even though Narza couldn't make out Luther's other eye, he could only hazard a guess that it was shot through with red.

"You think yourself so clever don't you? For that, I'll make you regret ever being bor-"

"SILENCE!" The voice had Narza on his knees as soon as it began, the voice of Cardes. Luther growled, a sound not unlike a roaring flame, Nalmika eyed him, ready to spring on him should he attack Narza while he was vulnerable. "Enough of your petty nonsense Luther, you shall have ample opportunity to kill on the battlefield, besides, Narza is worth more to me than any three of you together." Nalmika couldn't quite tell if Lord Cardes was being genuine or if he was merely needling Luther, but she couldn't miss the slight, proud grin that tugged at the corners of Narza's lips. Luther for his part was fuming, quite literally as smoke continued to pour between his fingers, but he remained silent. "Now, I sent you on a simple task, retrieve Nalmika and Narza, now do so." Nalmika didn't even raise an eyebrow, at one point she woulld've. He'd only called for Nalmika of course, but Narza, it seemed, was implied, their names and their presences practically synonymous.

"As you will, milord," Luther replied through gritted teeth, he was straining himself, but he knew his freedom could quite easily be revoked by Cardes. Of all the Divine Ten, he was hardly the one to cross.

"Good," Cardes rumbled, satisfied. "Narza." The king lifted his head to the eye.

"Yes Lord Cardes?"

"I look forward to finally meeting you in person." Narza looked stunned, of course he hadn't ever considered actually _meeting_ Cardes, but it had to happen at some point. Without awaiting his response, the golden eye shrunk back down to its dormant state.

"Alright," Luther began, sufficiently calmed now, "shall we be off?" Narza and Nalmika exchanged a brief look, then nodded to Luther, who finally removed the hand from his eye, swapping his eyepatch back over. Eerily enough, a pure black eye with a red iris was actually a comfort after all Luther had done. "Excellent, keep all limbs inside the portal at all times, it'd just be a gods-damned _tragedy_, if you two darlings were to lose anything." The sneer on his face told them that it would be anything but, but it was quickly swallowed up by the ring of flames that engulfed them, and all the world went white.

**Gooooooooooooooood Afternoon!**

So I recently decided to take a trip back to Narza's story and finally knock out one of my entries on this page. The story is going to have two more parts in total before it's ultimately finished, and from there it will jump onwards into another series I've been wanting to do for some time. I'm going to be working fully on producing the remaining two chapters of this to finally bring Narza's tale to a close, so look forward to it, I'm looking to get the next chapter out by next week. Hope you enjoyed, and see you all next time!


	4. Broken

**The Mad Swordsman's Descent: Broken**

The first thing Narza took notice of was the smell, or lack thereof, he'd imagined the Palace of the Gods would either have a tremendously pungent odor, or perhaps a scent like nectar, some extreme, but there was nothing. They'd appeared at a small altar, a raised stone pedestal encircled by low green flames, all dancing through the air, spritely little wisps with a life of their own. Both Luther and Nalmika immediately set off, Narza didn't even notice, gazing with undisguised wonder at the handiwork of the gods. Despite the beauty of it, there was something eerie about it all, something sinister. As soon as he stepped foot from the platform he saw what it was, the windows on one end of the hell were shadowed out, blocked by some massive, shapeless presence that prevented him from making out the details of the scenes depicted in the glass. He felt a tugging at his arm, glancing up he saw an absolute tower of a man looming over him. He had pinkish-platinum hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to burn a hole straight into Narza's soul, making him blanch slightly.

"Greetings mortal." Narza blinked, the voice was in his head, similar to Cardes' voice when he spoke to Narza through his sword, though this voice wasn't an authoritative one. "I assume you've just come from Grand Gaia?" Narza took a moment to glance around, there were no doors or adjoining passages besides the one Nalmika and Luther were walking down. His armor had been surveying the hall since he'd stepped foot in there. Where had this man come from?

"Umm...y-yes that's correct." The man acknowledged him with a nod, he was suited from chin to foot in a suit of gold and silver armor unlike any Narza had ever seen. In the world of armors, a person had two options, one was ring or chain mail, which took an enormous amount of time and diligence to make, hammering hundreds of tiny links of molten steel to bind the metal together into a length great enough to deflect oncoming attacks, and it took far longer to create a coat to cover a soldier. If at any point the metal took too long to shape, it cooled and any further work would only weaken the links, rendering the entire cover useless. The other option was armor like Narza's, platemail. Forging and binding solid lengths of shaped steel to better deflect incoming attacks, thus rendering bladed weapons useless, while also allowing mobility. It was vital that plates be kept short, jointed, as it would permit mobility while still protecting, without joints, it became impossible for the wearer to move around, leaving them well defended, but ultimately useless. This man was sheathed in a single, unbroken plate of metal which gave off a bright gold light, illuminating a massive pair of angelic wings folded against his back. They hardly seemed functional however, as the man merely levitated a foot from the ground, effortlessly. His half covered face held a look halfway between contempt and indifference.

"Hmm, I thought so, you're absolutely FILTHY."

"I am?" Narza asked, concerned, he always kept his armor polished to a mirror shine, he couldn't meet with Cardes looking any less than his best.

"Oh indubitably, you've been trailing dust with you since you appeared, it's…. it's tremendously distracting, I cannot lie." Narza glanced behind him, but couldn't tell what the man was referring to, the carpet was immaculate. "In fact, oh, I swore to my mistress that I wouldn't bother with such trivialities but...it's...just...so...filthy."

Without warning the hall was filled with the sound of thunder, fierce golden bolts of lightning rained down from somewhere high above, the high-vaulted ceiling stretching endlessly upwards. The bolts struck down on every square inch of the carpet, wisps of smoke rising as motes of dust were incinerated on the spot. Looking back at the man, Narza watched as his blue eyes flashed rapidly, each bright flash accompanied swiftly by another crack of lightning. His hair stood straight up on his head as a series of bolts began striking his armor, wisps of smoke rising from the silver. It was an odd sensation, the lightning seemed to dance harmlessly over the metal, rather than actually damaging him. After the last spark had dissipated from the surface of his suit, he gaped.

The metal was actually like a mirror! He could make out every aspect of the hallway around them in perfect detail merely from the reflection. The metal practically glowed as the torches on the walls danced light across its surface. the man eyed him up and down, lightly nodding at his handiwork.

"Hmm...not bad, I wouldn't let my dog eat from this, but it'll have to suffice, I'm Kanon by the way." the surprise must've shown on Narza's face, because he heard Kanon's chuckle reverberate through his skull.

"THE Kanon? Disciple of Maxwell? Bearer of the Demon Pike Drevas?" Kanon bowed his head, a pale green spear rising from somewhere behind him, his eyes gazing almost reverently at the weapon.

"Aye, the Demon Pike, the bane of creation, entrusted to me by my mistress, that none may be forced to bear the burden of it's terrible, venomous mind. My mind cannot be touched by the cursed steel, for my body cannot be touched either." Narza nodded, amazed, and now seeing the purpose behind the suit of armor, it was incredible, a god entrusted with such a dangerous task for all eternity, the will Kanon must possess was simply...unfathomable.

"It's been an absolute pleasure sir Kanon, on behalf of humanity, I thank you for the sacrifice you've made in removing so great a temptation over our world." He ended the praise with a bow, though if Kanon even saw or cared, he gave no indication. Instead he merely pivoted, hovering over the floor, and began floating along the path Nalmika and Luther had taken, bolts of lightning trailing in his wake, obliterating, presumably, any dust the gods had brought with them.

Such a glorious opportunity, him, a mere mortal, in the Palace of the Gods, the harbingers of creation, a chance to meet legends and beings he'd only ever heard of spoken in muttered, reverential tones. He lamented that the situation provoking it would be the very eradication of mankind however, he pursed his lips.

_Ah hells, Nalmika. _

He swore, he'd gotten completely sidetracked, he was meant to be here to comfort Nalmika. Willing forth some of the power in Cardes' blade, he shot like a bullet down the hall, zipping straight past the golden blur that was Kanon, turning a corner past a great set of pearly white doors, inlaid with six gems representing each kingdom, within seconds he appeared at Nalmika's side. He was more than a little pleased to see Luther jump ever so slightly, his good eyes flicked briefly to Narza, who winked at him, knowingly.

"Your sister is in her usual chambers, awaiting the pleasure of your company no doubt, Nalmika. I'd say I hope everything goes well, but you know what they tell us, lying is wrong." Nalmika's eye twitched in irritation, but a supportive squeeze in her arm from Narza reassured her. They approached a wide set of silver doors, each overgrown with bright green vines that curled and wound around each other, sky blue roses growing out from several points. The vines bound the door shut from their side, Luther sneered disapprovingly. "She's grown overly fond of barring the rest of us access unless they enter on her own terms, the acts Cardes allows this one to pull are outrageous, but there's very little we can do about it. Anyways though, I'm sure Tora's just as excited for you to see her as I am."

That accursed smile of his, Narza wanted so very much to lop the fool's head off, but given the previous attempt, he doubted he'd accomplish much. Though he wagered that it would be extremely therapeutic.

"Well as riveting as this little reunion has proven Luther, I do have prior engagements, so make yourself scarce." The vines shifted at the sound of Nalmika's voice, Luther, despite his irritation, couldn't back away quickly enough when he noticed it. Narza found Nalmika tightly squeezing his wrist, her lips tight with anxiety, he placed his other hand over hers. She gave him a weak, worried smile. When at last the vines had dispersed from their place at the doors, one of them swung inwards, and out stepped a very smartly dressed creature.

It's flesh was a dark purple, sharp black markings dancing over it like veins, likely something arcane. It was bundled in a fancy black and gray silk shirt, tucked into a pair of dark leather breeches and bound by a belt laden with heavy purple stones. His feet were bare, those same black lines running along them, they fanned out to four toes, each capped with thick black nails that reminded Narza of a horse's hooves. His eyes, like Luther's, were pure black, with orange irises. A pair of thick, orange horns protruded straight up from the top of his forehead, sprouting around a head of lush white hair, slicked back neatly with oils. It regarded them all with eyes half lidded, looking faintly bored.

"Lady Nalmika, Sir Narza, Luther." A male definitely, his voice was gentle, polite, one would almost miss his ending taunt, Narza shook his head, unsure he himself had heard correctly. Luther scowled, and he knew he had.

"This, as I presume you've never heard of him Narza, is-"

"Worth more than your life, convict." Narza was surprised, the creature spoke in a tone that told him that he was used to speaking to those beneath him, but to Luther? Who _was_ he? "Many things have changed since your incarceration Luther, but it would seem that you're just as volatile as ever." Luther snarled, fire in his eyes, but he held back...why? "Oh yes, you bare your teeth at me, know your place after all Luther, you are but a leashed dog to be pointed at our enemies and released, now scurry, your betters are speaking." Luther was quaking, Nalmika smirked, and much to Narza's amazement, Luther obeyed, uttering not so much as a word of protest, but flames visibly rose over his body as he departed. "Now that he's dealt with, Lady Nalmika, would you care to come inside? Your sister has been looking forward to your arrival for quite some time. And Sir Narza, I'll fetch an additional setting for you, are you a fan of tea sir? Or perhaps wine?" Narza tried to tell him that he would delight in a nice cup of tea, but Nalmika cut him off. She'd taken her hand away from his at some point.

"He won't be joining us I'm afraid, it will just be my sister and I this evening. King Narza has a personal meeting scheduled with Lord Cardes that requires his attention." Narza gave Nalmika a sideways glance, unsure, but he wasn't going to let her face this alone.

"I'm sure that Lord Cardes won't mind a brief wait my l-" The look that Nalmika shot him was pure poison, causing him to cut his phrase short, she'd given him that look before, albeit far more tame in the past. "My goddess." The creature barely even hesitated, giving a curt nod of acknowledgment,Narza was more concerned with Nalmika however, but she'd already looked away. "Perhaps he isn't one to cross however, do say hello to Tora for me." Narza began walking away, he glanced back, Nalmika watched him leave with a look absolutely dripping with disdain, his heart sank. _King _Narza? What had he done?

…

"Right this way milady," the creature directed, bowing deeply. Nalmika felt like she'd seen him before, but she couldn't quite recall, either way, he was a servant, unimportant. Reaching down, she unfastened her boots, allowing her bare feet to step forwards into the room, Tora was very touchy about shoes in her chambers. At the very least the servant was polite, patiently waiting as she took several deep breaths to settle her nerves, she thought she saw a brief flicker of a smirk on his lips, but it was probably just her anxiety. Very polite, patient, considerate, everything Tora wasn't, _so she literally has people for that._ _Come now Nalmika, courage delayed is indistinguishable from cowardice, get moving. _

Inside Tora's little slice of heaven, everything took on the appearance of an ancient building in the process of being retaken by nature. Everything, overgrown with flora and fauna of all dizzying colors. Cool, smooth moss squished pleasantly beneath her feet as she walked. The ceilings here disappeared high into the air, their ends well out of sight. Hanging from high overhead was an enormous growth of vines that coiled into the form of a chandelier, huge plants that looked like blue rose petals hung from them, emitting the eerie blue-white light that lit the room.

The entire chamber all centered around a dark dining table, it's expanse enough to fit a hundred gods, though so great a number Tora would never tolerate, nor would she ever manage to trick so many to come within a hundred feet of her. Nalmika was briefly tempted to head towards the right-most end of the table, opposite where her sister sat, she'd done that once, after all it was customary for guests. Tora had seen to it that she hadn't slept right for a year afterwards.

"You know it's truly a shame that Sir Narza is unable to join us, Mistress Tora has heard so very little about him, her curiosity has been palpable these past few months, she would've loved to pick his brain," the servant mused aloud, Nalmika breathed an inaudible sigh of relief, so she didn't know about him after all. She'd sent him off because she needed to ensure that Tora knew as little about the two of them as possible, one never knew the capacity of a servant. Of course the inglorious bastard had almost ruined it at the door, but he'd stopped himself, mercifully. She felt a sliver more prepared for the encounter now, so she moved towards the left end of the table, her hand passing lazily over the backs of each chair along the way, as if bidding some invisible dinner guests to save her.

"Ah, Nalmykins! It's been too long!" Gods that voice, so sickly sweet, it did nothing to belie her wicked nature to Nalmika, though she knew it threw quite a number of gods. The girl rushed from her seat at the head of the table, knocking over her chair in doing so. She charged into Nalmika, pulling her into a tight embrace, her velvety green hair falling down Nalmika's front, her eyes squeezed shut dreamily. "Oh sister dearest, I've missed you so very much, you hadn't even returned home in a year, I'd begun to think the worst had happened." Nalmika could only watch the servant as he carefully paced around them, not wishing to disturb the reunion, he lifted the discarded chair, resetting it at the head of the table. She smiled in the embrace, Tora didn't know about Narza then, it was a relief, she tentatively placed her arms around the little girl.

The little girl cooed into the embrace. Nalmika felt something cold press against her back, she grit her teeth. The Blade of Dawn, Tora's treasured knife, given to her by Maxwell herself. The blade of the knife was a shard of creation itself, one of the few items capable of fully killing a god, the very same material that Maxwell's own lance was made of. Tora had never used it, but every god who knew of her knew about the knife, and that there was nothing barring her from using it, just another bit of incentive in her discussions, leverage no other god could have.

Tora disengaged from the hug, her cerulean disciple eyes sparking. She wore a tiered black dress, various gems and gold lace running through it, red frilly silk lining the hem of it which ran down just below her knees. Black and blue striped stockings met her bare feet, small and pale, just like the rest of her, she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet excitedly. Thorned vines curled around several locks of her hair, a large red rose crowning them, red ribbons tied to either end resting over her ears.

"Do you think that I'll grow as beautiful as you someday big sister?" The question was asked so innocently, yet Nalmika sensed some hidden malice. Her mind perfectly recalled its vision from earlier that day, and that smile the buxom disciple flashed this time dissolved into the devil herself, that twisted smile of hers. _She can't read minds can she? No, of course not, that's just the anxiety talking Nalmika. _

She pulled a seat out beside the head chair, sitting to steady her nerves. Tora eagerly took her place at the head of the table. The servant was with them in an instant, setting down a golden tray laden with an ornate silver pot, steam wisping from its stem, and two small white cups with their own saucers. Nalmika decided to finally acknowledge him.

"Tory dear?" Tora looked at her, smiling expectantly, Nalmika had to suppress a scowl. "Who's this? Talented servants are so very difficult to obtain after all." Tora laughed, gesturing the creature over.

"Ah yes Nalmika, I'd forgotten, you wouldn't really recall meeting, he'd only just been recruited the day you last left, this," she gestured back to the creature, who took it as a sign to speak.

"I am Fölkr-"

"Zebra!" He blinked, glancing down at Tora, eyebrow raised." Oh your name's so difficult to remember, and you've got the black stripes and your feet are practically hooves." Zebra was obviously not placated, but his expression remained neutral.

"So he's your personal servant then?" Tora laughed.

"Oh, don't think of him as a servant, we regard him more like a doormat, wipe the dirt off on him and then forget his existence." Nalmika couldn't quite stifle the soft giggle, she looked over a cupped hand at Zebra, concerned about any possible backlash, yet despite the harsh, demeaning words, she swore that if anything, his neutral expression seemed broken up by the barest smile, expressed at Tora, who fanned her hands out over the table briefly, the Dawn's Blade pressed down, stretching her wrists, then folded them politely. Nalmika looked back to Zebra, but he was walking away already, off through a doorway into another room. She couldn't help but feel like something important had just happened but then the gentle tinkling of liquid pouring brought her eyes back Tora, who held out a steaming cup and saucer to her, always smiling.

"Tea?"

…

"And so that's the story of how I beat the ever-loving SHIT! out of that guy….y'know, that one….that guy...he's totally not Felneus…"

"Zerafalgar?" Narza added, mind slightly frayed.

"YEAH! That's the one! Good times, next time you're in the mood for a good hunt you see me eh? We'll have a gay ole' time!"

"Yes, indeed, I'll be sure to get a hold of you, Sir Tazer."

Narza had spent the better part of the past ten minutes listening to the disciple regale him with tales of his past hunts. Normally the king adored a good tale of adventure, but Tazer, the man was particularly vulgar. Utilizing terms like 'Awesome', 'Badass', and several others that he thought were hardly appropriate, as well as being overly fond of voicing sound effects. It certainly wasn't befitting of one of the gods, who he'd known to have far more refined language. It appeared he was constantly battle ready, an impressive suit of sky blue scale armor made him appear like an angry, churning wave. His lush, wild mane of orange hair sat over a chiseled, friendly face, with those haunting blue eyes that it seemed was characteristic of the godly disciples.

Tazer though, had apparently lost his patron god at some point, slain by an exceptionally powerful demon if his stories were to be believed. With the way Tazer spoke though, Narza briefly entertained the idea that said god had slit their own throat rather than bare the man.

"OH! YO! KANON!" Barely paying Narza any heed, Tazer conjured a wave of water around himself, and with a wave of his hand he was riding it down the hallway. Turning, Narza indeed saw the towering disciple, casually drifting in their direction. Luther had evaded Narza's request for guidance through the labyrinthine structure to Cardes. The Creator's Disciple would surely have the guidance he sought. "Hey Kanon! How's life treating ya? What've you been up to?" As Narza approached he could see Kanon's eye twitch with irritation.

"Tazer," it seemed Kanon was too irritated to focus his voice at one person, as his voice boomed in Narza's head as well as Tazer's. "We see one another, EVERY, DAY! What do you think could possibly have happened in the time since I last spoke to you...AN HOUR AGO!?" Tazer shrugged, dispelling the wave around him.

"Ya never know, maybe the humans invaded and I missed it."

"Tazer…"

"Yeah?"

"WE'RE INVADING THEM! I...did you...ride down this hallway?" Kanon asked, craning his neck to view the hall past Tazer.

"Look Kanon buddy, I know you've got your germ issue, but I've got you, ya see, it's just water! I'm practically doing your job for you!" He clapped Kanon on the back, and Narza could hear Kanon's nostrils flare. A blast of lightning struck his suit, irritated.

"Ocean...water."

"Yeah, what about it mate?"

"There's...salt… in ocean water."

"Look, I don't really know much about that, but it seems to me that the only thing salty here, is you Kanon." The towering disciple rotated his entire body forward slightly, baring down on Tazer with narrowed, angry eyes.

"Oh Tazer," Kanon sighed, blue eyes flashing with rage, "one day."

"One day what?" Tazer queried, oblivious.

"One day, we are going to battle one another, and it will be to the death, and either you will be dead, and I'll finally have my peace and quiet-"

"Or?" Narza couldn't believe a god was actually this dense.

"Or I die, and I'll finally have my peace and quiet."

"Oh…" Tazer responded, sounding genuinely dejected," alright, I'll get out of your hair then Kanon, later Narza. HEY! How about a high five Kan-"

"No."

"Oh...Later Narza." Narza waved slightly at the curious disciple, such a very odd creature. Tazer conjured another wave around himself and surfed his way down the opposite end of the hall. A vein visibly strained against Kanon's forehead in irritation, he turned to the king.

"Sir Narza, I presume you have questions so I advise you pose them now before the remainder of my sanity is cast into the all-consuming void that is my obsessive compulsive rage." Narza nodded, collecting his thoughts, extremely wary of the throbbing vein and twitching eye of the Creator's disciple.

"Okay, I'm going to need directions to Cardes' throne room, and I'll need any information you can provide for getting on the gods' better sides, I need to try and make myself indispensable." Kanon's eyes were bloodshot, he seemed to be showing godly restraint in not going off on the spot.

"BACK PAST TORA'S DOOR TURN LEFT ALL THE WAY DOWN DOOR ON RIGHT SECOND LEFT SECOND STAIRWELL GET OFF ON THIRD LANDING WALK DOWN TO THE END OF TWO HALLWAYS YOU'LL COME UP ON CARDES' DOOR CAN'T MISS IT GET FEEVA TO KNOCK NOT YOU YOU'LL MEET ALPHA SHOW HIM WHO YOU ARE HE'LL RESPECT YOU NOW IF YOU'LL EXCUSE ME I NEED TO CLEAN **DON'T! TELL! MAXWELL!" **Narza could practically feel his eyes spinning at the stream of instructions but before he could question Kanon the golden blur had breezed past him and the hall was filled with the roar of thunder and the flash of white lightning. He had to dash away with all the strength of the sacred blade to escape unscathed.

He tried to move quickly to keep the directions from slipping away from him, but after two more stairwells than he immediately remembered being told about he was most definitely lost. Slowing himself to an easy stride he continued on his way, no doubt Luther had immediately made way to Cardes and was slandering Narza at that very second. He supposed there was very little room for the gods to combat one another that the Palace itself felt so much like a political arena. It was a dangerous game, tousling with gods, but if he emerged with his sanity intact, he'd accomplish more than any mortal ever had.

"Greetings mortal, state your name, profession, and reason for existing in my hallway so that when I vaporize you and Kanon then vaporizes the ashes I can appropriately record you in the annals of history." Looking up, Narza bore witness to a fiery-winged angel. With skin like ash and midnight blue eyes, the iron-haired angel was obviously a disciple. He was draped in a heavy suit of steel and molten iron that dripped from his frame, rose and hovered around him, and re-solidified. In his right armored hand he gripped a massive black blade, wickedly curved and writhing with living flames. Narza could immediately see that it was a weapon more for torture and inflicting pain than for battle. Despite the frightful appearance though, the man seemed terribly calm, tranquil even, as though the threat of complete eradication was commonplace.

"My name is Narza, king of La Veda, and um...lost, in reporting for an audience with Lord Cardes." Those eyes scanned him, passed over him, and the disciple kept walking down the hall, black iron boots clanking heavily. Narza shot a look at him, confused. "Um, hello?" The disciple ignored him, why the threat? "Sir?"

"Oh don't mind Alpha," a female voice assured him. Turning, Narza saw a woman with dusty-blue skin, she was dressed in an alluring servant's garb, a tight-fitting white shirt and long black pants. Slung over her back was an odd two-pronged spear, an armed servant, curious. Her feet were bare, ending in those black nails like the servant at Tora's room. Her curly white hair hung in ropes about an exceptionally pretty face. She smiled at him as he looked her up and down. "He'll only speak to others when they can fight him, obsessed with power that one."

"You sound like you admire him." Narza remarked.

"Oh I envy him, he's a step closer to godhood than I, one day I'll kill him though." She spoke of it so casually Narza had to question it, to which she spread a cunning smile. "Oh yes, I'll kill him, just like he assures our mistress Zevalhua that he'll kill her, only the strongest may live and rule King Narza. You see, now humanity has decided that they are stronger, and wish to initiate combat against their masters, and either the servants shall supersede the place of their creators, or the creators will engineer a new race to serve them." It was a difficult, yet brilliantly simple mindset on the matter, Narza glanced between Alpha and her, there was absolutely no indication that a threat of mutual destruction hung between them. The gods were an odd bunch certainly.

"So he won't speak to anybody until they challen-"

"What was that!?" Alpha was behind him in the blink of an eye, breathing down Narza's neck. The king stiffened. "Go ahead. Finish. That. Sentence."

"-Ge...him." Dropping to the ground, Narza spun under the disciple's sword, legs shooting out to sweep Alpha's feet out. The disciple dropped like a sack of stones, the metal armor clanked heavily onto the floor. Narza slammed down into Alpha's chest, tearing his sword from its sheathe and pressing it into Alpha's throat. "A thousand pardons Sir Alpha but I've a meeting to be attending to at the moment." Mercifully, this was no Luther, Alpha merely nodded, his expression remaining calm and neutral for the entire exchange, only a slight flicker in his look told Narza that he was surprised. A concussive wave of searing hot air shot from a glowing rift in Alpha's chestplate, knocking Narza several feet into the air, coming to land heavily on his feet, his teeth rattling with the force of it. He heard a faint padding and turned to see the servant clapping, beaming at him.

"King Narza you are then, an impressive swordsman you are as well, the tales don't lie. A man who earned the favor of Cardes but stands on his own strengths, a quality to be admired truly, you have the respect of Mare and I."

"I _have _a name you know," the servant spat at him, but Alpha merely glared back at her.

"And for your insubordination, that name is Mare until you can defeat me in single combat, you need to earn that honor back." Mare grumbled in frustration but didn't protest, so there _was _tension between these two.

"Erm...begging your pardon Sir Alpha, Lady Mare, but I've an audience with Lord Cardes and I'm afraid your home is more than a tad imposing, I fear I've lost my way." Alpha glared naked daggers at Narza, the briefest glimmer of true emotion in his eyes before it was smothered.

"And you wish for the disciple of the Supreme to be your tour guide?" Narza gulped, meeting Alpha's gaze, he shouldn't have expected assistance in this.

"I meant no disrespect Sir, I simply need -"

"We'd be delighted!" Mare chirped up, butting in front of Alpha.

"How _dare_-"

"Now Cardes' temporary chambers that you're looking for are a floor above us." Mare had grabbed Narza by the arm and was ushering them past Alpha, who's grumbles and heavy footfalls couldn't ever hope to conceal that he was following close behind in quite a mood.

…

"It's a very bitter tea Tory, it's interesting, what kind of leaf did you use?"

"Oh it's a unique blend sister, it's called Deadly Chamomile." Nalmika frowned at her sister's poorly concealed snicker behind the steaming cup of tea. She was very quickly coming to regret relenting and coming to see her sister, but there was nothing for it now, she squared her shoulders.

"As much delight as I find in cracks at me, I was hoping you could catch me up on the latest gossip." The sisters shared a conspiratory smile, if there was one thing Tora particularly enjoyed, it was idle chatter on their peers. Nalmika liked to make her lead off their visits on the topic since she could reacquaint herself comfortably with her sister's company.

"Oh you know me so well Nalmy. Now let's see, I'm sure you've seen that your brother Luther is out and about." Nalmika sighed an exasperated sigh, giving Tora her 'have I ever' eyes, the little girl smiled warmly. "Yes well, that was everyone's reaction to it honestly. Phee's been awfully on edge lately, you know how she is about humans yes?" Nalmika nodded, concerned for Phee, "Well she's been muttering quite a bit about 'that stupid monkey', in the singular, I haven't really put too much stock into it though." Nalmika's ears perked, her grip on her cup tightening slightly, positioned as such that Tora wouldn't be able to see, was Phee on about Narza?

"Last I saw her a few months back she was just the same as ever, must be a recent development." Tora's eyes were focused on something behind her, she nodded slightly, grinning at Nalmika. What was she looking at?

"Hmm...Perhaps, I'll look into it. Uda took it upon himself to lose one of our battleships recently," Nalmika took a sip of her tea, wide eyed, Uda was usually so capable. "Yes, to a mere pirate just to add insult to injury, Lord Cardes has yet to decide a fitting punishment. Kajah has been imprisoned in Luther's old cell plane." _What!? Kajah!? _

"For what cause?"

"Oh, it's officially an account of treason, divulging arcane secrets kept close to only a choice few gods." She spoke with a none too self-satisfied tone.

"But…?" Tora smiled.

"But _I _know better. I've reason to believe that the charges were passed off on him, by Zellha." Ah, now _that_ Nalmika could believe, but disclosing information, even that seemed beyond her. "I've a very reliable source telling me that she's taken a human lover." Nalmika went rigid, her mind racing to Narza, heavens she needed him right now, if Tora ever knew…

"REALLY? I know she's hardly the most tightly knit among us but...my word." Her tone was even, genuine, she couldn't have Tora suspecting, and she couldn't have said it better. But her little sister's eyes were beyond her again, and she gave that faint,knowing grin. She shifted her slight shoulders forward, crossing her legs, and Nalmika gulped. It was such a small movement, most would see it as an attempt to merely get comfortable, but Nalmika recognized it, Tora had just become _very _invested in the conversation.

_She _can't _read minds….you don't just suddenly start being able to do that...right? _Oh who was she kidding? It was Tora...gods and that was all that needed to be said to explain it as well, the girl would learn how to walk on water just to gain an edge.

"Indeed, a Bariuran mage, set to spreading the word of the gods."

"A religious type? Zellha doesn't typically fancy-"

"All over her back," the disciple finished, eyes alight with mischief. Nalmika cringed slightly, Tora really was _her _sister, but still, ugh. "You know Nalmika, I enjoy and savor the time I spend with every god, like a fine wine, but I must say I love our time the most." Nalmika felt her chest tighten, they were at real names now, she sipped at her tea.

"Oh?"

"Yes, in fact I'd go so far as to say that you're my greatest challenge, you know me as thoroughly as I know you, and you plan around my shortcomings," the little girl leaned in now, her voice growing very low and husky in what Nalmika knew was an imitation of her, "and it makes the fall _so _much more satisfying to watch."

"O...oh, well, I thank you Tora...I suppose," Nalmika replied, cautious.

"It's really a shame that Narza couldn't join us, but he _does _have that meeting with Lord Cardes after all."

"Indee…" _Wait, _Nalmika hadn't told her that, how would she...oh gods…

"How is Narza anyway? I'm curious, you've spent an entire year...entertaining, his company after all, how much does he mean to you?"

_Shit_.

Nalmika shot up from her chair so quickly that she inadvertently flipped her teacup, spilling the amber liquid all over the table. She cried out as an intense, flaring pain lanced her shoulder, forcing her back into the seat. Before she could protest a long, curved blade slammed down past her head to imbed itself in the wood between her thighs. Zebra, he had one hand, now ensorcelled in writhing green energy, and she swore she could hear screaming resonating from it, on her shoulder, the blade in his other hand twisted towards her suggestively.

"What...what is the meaning of this!? Unhan-gah!" The hand on her shoulder broke skin, she ground her teeth.

"Tsk tsk tsk," Tora. "Oh Nalmika, come now, I can't have you storming out on me, it would be such a shame if you interrupted that meeting now. And besides, I haven't seen my sister in so long, and I still have so much to tell you! So settle in, maintain eye contact, I wish to see every detail on your face when I tell you."

…

The door to Karna Mastah's, now Cardes' throne room if only for the moment, was as imposing a presence as Narza had imagined it would be. A pure black monolith, like a sheer cliff face of obsidian, effaced of all save for the dozen lines of old runes etched into it. The Old Tongue, Narza recognized it from his theological studies, used before man had divided itself along the lines of the Six Kingdoms, and he struggled to recall their meaning, soundlessly mouthing the words.

"Ooooh, you speak the God's Tongue?" Mare asked, twisting her head to see him. God's Tongue?

"I vaguely recall it, it's a seldom ventured field of study, from back when the people were still united in their beliefs." Mare gazed at him with open wonder, he could practically feel Alpha's scowl.

"And I'm sure your teachers on the matter would call it no more than an old, forgotten tongue." A shadow detached itself from the door, baring a set of dangerous blue eyes at him. It was a woman, her eyes were outlined with sleek charcoal in rough, elegant patterns. Her hair was a sleek ash gray, parting around her hips. She wore a black jacket that had allowed her to blend against the door, at either hem was a chain of pure white bone that clacked noisily together at every movement. She wore a scarlet shirt underneath, patterns of silver lace flashing on it as she leaned heavily against the door. She was savage, beneath a calm visage, Narza could tell. "Alpha, Mare, so very good to see you again," her strict, formal tone made it apparent that it wasn't.

"Feeva," they responded in kind. Her gaze turned back to Narza.

"God's Tongue?" Anger flashed in her disciple eyes, she detached herself from the door, marching towards him.

"Yes, the sacred language of the gods, once shared by man, filthy beasts that you are." This was definitely new information, but why was such a time never mentioned in any of the sacred texts?

"Well what happened to change that?"

"Pfft, 'what happened?', what happened was the rest of the gods put an end to Maxwell's foolish desire to let her pet beasts taste the language that is the breath of creation. So we abandoned the language, in favor of the atrocity you speak now, we taint our lips, so that you will not taint our tongue, and since it has fallen into a state of disrepair. But while the humans breed and die across the world, forgetting the language they took for granted, the gods live on, forever with that knowledge, and whence you rats are flushed from the world, we shall return to it." Narza sighed, eyeing Feeva up and down, there were some people that couldn't be reasoned with he supposed.

"My Lady Feeva, I beg you let me pass, I've an audience with Lord Cardes." She paused, a curious, almost desperate edge to her hateful gaze. She snapped her fingers.

Two enormous shapes tore free of the door in a violent burst of stone and crystal, moving to her side. The shapes were immense...dragons. Their scales were jagged shards of obsidian crystal, eyes glowing white hot, mirroring their mistress' fury. They both let out a fierce rumble, a grating sound like shifting rocks against steel as they circled him, hulking giants towering over him like a child.

"A mere human, the gods can, and surely will, grind you to dust the instant they have something more to gain by it. A mere man doesn't pledge himself to something with that power without asking something in return. So, _King _Narza, what was your price?" It was a dangerous question, Narza knew, one that both Nalmika and Cardes would surely turn Feeva to mincemeat for, but right now, she was in charge, and those hulking crystal dragons were eyeing him...hungrily. Thankfully though, the answer wasn't difficult.

"Nothing." She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "My opportunity to serve my creators is reward enough, I have asked nothing more, and recieved nothing less." In a rage, she leapt at him, drawing an obsidian blade from her hip, he didn't stop her, even as the blade carved a long gash in his forehead. His hands formed into fists, fingernails biting into the flesh of his palms, hard enough to draw blood, his knees trembled, his mouth hung open in a silent cry of pain. He was still standing though, so the cut wasn't deep.

Feeva stood aghast as her blade drank not of divine life, but of mortal. Bright, ruby blood swam from the open wound, flowing into the indentations in the blade. Countless centuries and humanity finally created a being that was everything Maxwell herself had envisioned...and they were just going to…

"I will give you this chance, you may walk away, collect your goddess, and be off. I will bear Cardes' judgement, and you may go out to fight your war, maybe even survive it. Enter, and you accept a responsibility far beyond your ken." His response was immediate, disciples and crystal dragons be damned, hell, the Divine Ten be damned, Nalmika was facing her demons, he wouldn't be dissuaded by something so trivial as a door greeter.

Gods...Nalmika, what had he done to make her act like that? If she wanted him sent away to keep him from worrying, she was sorely mistaken. Was it something about Tora? _Bah, focus Narza, worry later_.

"I will enter, Lord Cardes _will_ see me."

Feeva gave him a long, judging look, weighing him, but he thought he saw a faint, pleading look, quickly smothered.

"Very well," she turned, pointing a single gloved hand at Alpha, one of the two dragons ceasing its predatory circling and stooping down in a kind of 'bow' before him. "Alpha, do you speak of the strong character of the outsider, Narza of La Veda?"

"He does!" Mare chimed in, Alpha glared molten death at her.

"Aye, I, Alpha, disciple to the Supreme, do attest to the power and will possessed by King Narza of La Veda." Affirming Mare's statement, the disciple placed a gloved hand to the beast's head, it's crystal white eyes blazed red at his touch.

"Then I, Feeva, disciple to the Almighty, Karna Mastah, speak for him as well." At her touch to the other beast, it and its twin leapt back, slamming with great force into the wall once more, those runes in its surface began to glow with a brilliant red light. Feeva began reciting the text as it lit up, her voice monotone, official.

"Then enter ye, oh mortal among the gods, blessed by two disciples, may your strength be twofold, and your wits be about you, you now walk where angels and demons fear to tread, before the Almighty...even if it is only Cardes right now…" She couldn't resist adding that last part in just loud enough for Narza to hear, though she seemed to draw no amusement from the insult. A rigid column of stone at the very center of the door sank into the floor, slowly, painstakingly slow, accompanied by the grinding sound of metal over stone. Narza felt not a single mote of trepidation, he merely sat, arms folded as he awaited the reveal of the throne. He couldn't quite help musing aloud.

"I do wonder what he wishes to discuss, our battle plans are already laid out." The two disciples recoiled, giving him a look full of shock.

"You mean...you don't even know?" Feeva demanded, enraged. But the entrance was clear, and Narza had no more mind for Feeva to speak, so he waltzed right beyond the barrier, towards Cardes. "Narza!" Sighing, he turned back to meet Feeva's eyes, but they were soft, her lips knit tightly, her back ramrod straight. "I'm sorry." Sorry? What did a goddess have to apologize to him for? He opened his mouth to ask as much, when the black stone closed itself once more, shutting out the rest of the palace.

"King...Narza….So very nice, to finally meet you."

"Lord Cardes."

…

"Tora, what in the name of the Almighty do you mean by this!? Tell your servant to unhand me, before I unman him…"

"Uh uh uh, don't threaten Zebra like that Nalmykins, he's his own self, he can make his own decisions. Zebra, would you like to unhand my sister?" Nalmika shuddered as she felt that clawed hand bite further into her shoulder.

"Oh no dear Tora, I think I should like to keep her around for awhile longer, she's such wonderful dinner company after all."

"There, you see?" Nalmika growled, willing some of the surrounding vines to slowly shift towards Zebra, who laughed his gentle, now utterly demented laugh.

"You forget, Lady Nalmika, who your sister is." Nalmika felt a prick at her ankle, and the vines were all at once shooting up her legs, coiling about them and binding them tight together.

"What!?" Bah! The pain made her sloppy, she'd extended her will into the plants around her, but Tora could control those plants, she'd had centuries to own them, they wouldn't defy her will. "Dammit Tora, what did you do!?" The girl chuckled, brandishing the Dawn Blade between two dainty fingers.

"So, what is Narza to you?" She asked, ignoring Nalmika's question entirely. "Is he a mere servant, filth on your boot heel not worthy of a second thought?" Nalmika balled her fists, and she heard Zebra chuckle, dragging his nails through her shoulder just to watch her squirm.

"It would seem that's struck a nerve Tora, I believe you've insulted her." Tora placed a hand over her heart as if in shock, but her face read only pure delight, the same kind of pleasure any child shows when they've cracked a sufficiently difficult puzzle. Damn it all to hell! She had been looking at Zebra before!

"So Nalmykins, a year spent with him, I had my suspicions, but now I'm almost sure, why, you two are _lovers_ aren't you?" Nalmika's chest was pounding, her heart threatening to crack her ribs, she pulled a hand through her hair to try and ease her own nerves, Tora didn't need Zebra to tell her that she'd just hit the nail on the head. "Why NALMYKINS! And you were just going on about how bad Zellha was, yet you are just as dogged as she is!" She made a dismissive gesture with her knife, and the vines binding Nalmika's legs bit into her flesh, forcing her out of her chair and into a kneeling position. Zebra tore his clawed hand from her shoulder, causing her to hiss, baring her teeth, though she couldn't turn herself to see him.

"Why aid her Zebra? She could never defend herself, you could be right under Cardes himself." It was desperate to turn to the servant, or, whatever he was, but any card played would force Tora to show one of her own. Unfortunately for her, both the girl and the servant started laughing.

"Oh Nalmika, you misunderstand the relationship Zebra and I share. You see, he serves me, yes, but he learns from me, my methods, my techniques, and he assists me, especially in reading unsuspecting gods and goddesses like you. One day, something shall happen, and I will no longer be here, at that time, he shall assume my duties as Cardes' disciple. But until then, he has no reason to turn against me." Zebra twisted his claws in her shoulder, forcing the breath out of her lungs.

"You truly have spent a year among those gutter children humans, that you would rely on such a flimsy tactic as temptation to betrayal," he taunted, voice still calm, even, collected.

"You know, I'm coming to really hate you Zebra." She could practically _feel_ the smug smile on his face.

"The heart breaks, milady." Oh gods she would savor shredding him limb from limb. Reaching out with her mind, she felt her pets approaching, burrowing to their mother's aid, she needed to find out what Tora was up to before they arrived.

"What have you done Tora!?" But the girl simply kept shaking her head patronizingly, giddily running her fingers over the knife's surface, her tea forgotten, growing cold.

"Oh you're in no position to be demanding anything from me Nalmykins. But don't worry dear, I'm not demanding, all I need you to do, is tell me," she stooped over, coming face to face with Nalmika, smiling evilly. "How do you feel for Narza?"

"I feel nothing for him," Nalmika spat. Tora frowned, gesturing with her knife, the vines and thorns bit deeply into Nalmika's legs, she grit her teeth.

"Now, why don't I believe you?" Nalmika gave no quarter, her lips tight in defiance, Tora sighed. "Oh well, Zebra, shall we go to see the festivities?" Festivities?

"Right away Tora, I'll fetch your shoes, and have the portal waiting when you return. Shall Lady Nalmika be joining us?" _Oh, shove it up your ass Zebra! _

"Oh, I don't rightly know Zebra, Nalmika? You only need to tell me…" _What could she be planning? Oh dammit, swallow your pride Nalmika! _

"I...I.." Tora, she wanted to tear those smiling lips right off her cherubic little face. "You bitch, I….I love him," she choked it out.

"There," so sickly sweet, sounding for all the world like she _cared_. "Was that so hard? And I can't very well say I blame you, though I've never met him, he sounds like a truly incredible specimen of man. And it is for that very reason that Lord Cardes and I agreed, that he would be the latest subject for receiving the powers of a disciple." Nalmika's eyes widened.

_NO!_

The ground erupted, Nalmika's favorite pet flytraps catapulting the entire table skyward as they rose, spraying wooden splinters and broken shards of porcelain into the air. One of them extended itself upwards, gripping that makeshift chandelier in its maw, snapping off its visible portion at the tip, causing the whole piece to plummet with an immense groan. The other snapped at Tora, who let out a very unladylike shriek. The vines entangling Nalmika retreated, mimicking their mistress' shock.

Nalmika rose on shaky legs and ran. She ran and she didn't look back. Not to see her sister's eyes. Not to see the ruin. Not when the light of those roses intensified, shining like blue suns, and her pets shrieked in response. Not even when those shrieks died abruptly, Zebra carving through their tree trunk thick roots in a single pass of his blade. She didn't even stop to once again find her boots, she needed to get to Narza.

…

"Lady Tora, shall I pursue her?"

"Oh no Zebra, I think not. It would be one thing to keep her here, allow her to agonize over the implications, it would break her. But then it would be so much more delectable, if she must make the choice herself, does she stay way, and allow fate to take its course, and let her heart kill itself in anxious anticipation? Or does she rush in, attempt to stop it, and be forced to bear witness to his death, or his triumph. Do you not agree that this is so much sweeter?"

"Hoho, very good madame, immensely satisfying."

"I knew you'd like it. Now, what shall we do in the meantime?"

"Well I don't know about you madame, but I have little interest in having Kanon come charging through badgering me about hygiene," he pulled a pair of sleek black gloves over both hands," so I shall do as a butler does, and tidy up."

…

Narza knelt before the massive obsidian throne, bowing his head. Cardes seemed...smaller than he'd imagined. He sat at the very edge of the throne to have both feet on the ground, standing, he wouldn't draw up to Narza's shoulders. With eyes of gold that seemed too bit on his comparatively small head, and a mop of snow white hair he regarded Narza silently. His frame was slight, lanky, lightly muscled. His chest was bare, arcane black tattoos etched all over it in intricate, symmetrical patterns. His lower half was clad in a billowy pair of white silk pants. His elbow was propped against one arm of the throne, chin resting in his hand, his legs evenly parted on the floor. Overall, he seemed exceptionally bored, not a good sign.

"Narza, of La Veda, King, of La Veda, first mortal, bound directly, to one of the Divine." The god spoke in brief statements, sounding as if he grew tired of every sentence, needing to drag himself through each. "I was going, to allow you, to pierce your own heart, and bleed out, upon the Thousand Steps." Narza gulped, he could practically hear the 'And now I shall fix my mistake' in each breath Cardes took at every pause. "And that...would have been, a mistake."

"I...pardon?" Narza asked, disbelieving. Cardes chuckled, a deep rumbling voice that made Narza's own vocal chords vibrate.

"You've proven, useful to me, Narza, more useful, than I could have imagined, a worthy mortal, if ever there was one."

"I thank you my Lord." Narza was breathless with delight, it took him a moment to collect himself. "Lord Cardes, if you don't mind, our plans have been established, why request a meeting now?" Those golden eyes felt intrusive, violating almost, like they pierced through the armor to Narza's naked flesh, and they poured over him.

"Narza, did you know, that the humans have taken, to calling me, 'The Malevolent'? A cruel twist, on my title. As you can tell, I am furious about this, sacrilege. Humans are, at their core, flawed beasts, but they will never acknowledge, their own faults. Even now, as death rears it's pale steed, at their doorsteps, they would deny their own weakness, deny their fault, in ruining the world, and would much rather, slander the name, of a god. Humans always, look for scapegoats, to hide behind, can never, relent, too set in their ways, and so Maxwell's children, turn against us, painting us as monsters, when it was they, who tore their own world apart.

"But then, there is you, Narza. You, are everything, that my sister ever wanted, of her children, and so I've called you here, that you may receive, your ultimate reward." He paused for a moment, placing a hand to his chin, deep in thought. "You have been shaped, by your goddess, it seems she sought, to remake you, in my image. Interesting, I will, remember that." Narza's eyes widened slightly, it was true, he bore a striking resemblance to the Benevolent, but the god was once again speaking, and he had no more time to consider it. "Mortality, is not, your color, my liege, both my disciple, Tora, and I, agree. And so, I wish for you, to be made, a disciple."

Narza gaped, bowing his head once more, of all the wildest dreams he could conjure, to be made a disciple, and to Cardes himself no less, was inconceivable.

"M..my Lord! What could possibly bring you to such a conclusion, dare I ask?" Cardes chuckled again, golden eyes ripe with satisfaction.

"Ah yes, as I told you Narza, I spared you, when you were prepared, to slay yourself. I did so, at the behest, of your dear Nalmika, she used leverage, a favor that she had, with her sister, my daughter, my disciple, Tora, to convince me. And now, Tora spoke with me, about the possibility, of making you, a disciple. Many have been tested, before your time, and all have failed, killed, by the process, so to spite Nalmika, she wished this upon you. I love my daughter, Narza, but I do believe, that it's nigh time, that I remind her, she cannot use my shadow, to work her shady dealings. You see, unlike her, I have faith, that you will be different, Narza, you, _will_, survive, and you too, shall be my disciple, Tora, shall see then, that she is expendable, and either, she will rise to it, or she will show, that she is unfit, to serve me. I demand, only the best, of my subjects, and I will not be moved, not even, for my child.

"So come, we shall not dwell, upon that, which bears little gravity, we shall see you made my disciple, and then our war, shall begin in true. Kneel before me," Narza did so, his silver eyes bright with gratitude, pride, joy, his one aspiration in life, to serve the gods, realized in spectacular fashion. "Narza, son of the Creator, to be made, son of the Benevolent," Narza swore for a moment that a creature sprung from Cardes' being, a mass of pure muscle, riddled with glowering skulls and writhing with tentacles that seemed to drip with darkness. He found that he was losing himself in the fiend's blazing red eyes, Cardes' voice barely registering in the back of his mind. "By my power, I bid thee…"

…

Feeva refused to meet her eyes as Nalmika willed the door to Karna Mastah's chambers open, as they would for any god. She wanted to think that it was because the taciturn disciple rarely spoke to anybody, but something about the way she stood, the way those eyes were downcast, told her that it was something else. She'd already let Narza in then, and she'd known, who of all the gods hadn't known besides her? The stone couldn't shift fast enough, her bare feet beat furiously against the floor in her impatience, her heart thundering, her face cold and clammy as icy sweat seeped from her pores, her breathing was labored after running all the way here.

Tora. Demons take her.

She'd KNOWN! All along she'd thought her greatest vulnerability had been kept hidden from the girl, but she'd played Nalmika like a fool, from the beginning she was only leading her towards her own destruction, and of all the ways to do so, she could have merely wiped his memory clean, Cardes wouldn't do anything to her, and he would forget all about her. But no, she wanted to see him dead, being made a disciple, it would be the single happiest moment of the man's life, and his last.

And she'd _waited, _why had she _waited!? _

_Why in the name of the Almighty does this damned door open from top to bottom!? _

As soon as she saw that the stone pillar was low enough, she didn't dally a moment longer, leaping up and grabbing hold of the top of the stone, lifting herself up, over, and dropping breathless into the throne room.

"NARZA!" Her love turned towards her, he was alive! She rushed to embrace him, throwing herself into him, her breaths shuddering, nearly at the point of tears. But his arms didn't loop around her, didn't hoist her into the air, away from all the troubles of the world, she was very much still within Karna Mastah's chambers, Cardes staring at her in his absent, bored manner, and Narza...oh gods.

Bright blue and gold wisps of power radiated from his form, his very presence seeming to give off a faint silver light. His hand gripping the hilt of his blade, which was now adorned with a set of gold wings framing the golden Eye of Cardes within. He was a disciple! All but a god! But his eyes….

They were red, vacant, empty of soul.

Narza, what he once was, was now gone.

**Salut! **

Well, here it is, took a tad longer than anticipated but I hope it was worth the wait. I wanted to put a lot into each of the disciples and I hope you all love them as much I loved creating each of them. I'm going to be digging right into the final chapter, chapter 5, and I hope to have it out early to mid October, and finally see Narza's tale brought to a close. So, until then, goodbye friends, and I hope you all have a lovely day.


	5. For The Ten!

_**For The Ten!**_

Narza's senses felt electrified as he stumbled backwards, eyes blurring. The dark figure had vanished from Cardes' side, the Benevolent merely sat atop his throne, eyeing Narza with golden eyes, very clearly brimming with pride.

"And so, the prodigal son arises, born anew. Well that, shall conclude our meeting then, if I ever have need of you, you will know."

"Milor-"

"NARZA!" Turning his back to Cardes, Narza saw Nalmika running towards him, her skin shone with sweat, her feet were bare, and they, along with her legs, looked a tinge blue, and riddled with holes. She half ran, half collapsed into him, panting heavily. Beyond her, he could see Feeva at the open door, those glowing blue eyes of hers seemed sad, downcast, she looked away.

"Narza?" She looked up at him with those big purple eyes of hers, she looked terrified. She pulled him in closer, pressing herself against him, her skin felt cold and sweaty, Narza wrinkled his nose in distaste. He gently squeezed her arms to politely get her to disengage, though it seemed she was as addled as she looked as she only wrapped herself more tightly around him. Chivalry out the window, Narza firmly gripped her arms and pried her off of him. Her eyes were brimming with tears in an instant. _Oh come now, I didn't use that much force… _They began flowing freely down her face, her damned lip was quivering! She wasn't even trying to hold a thing in. _Dammit woman, I'm not made of stone. _

He reached out one hand, gently wiping the tears from her eyes, it felt enormously awkward, he had no clue what to tell her, but she seemed to draw comfort from it, her sobbing subsiding.

"What's...the matter, Nalmika?" He asked, awkward. She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut now.

"Nothing Narza...Nothing. You…" she choked for a moment, then regained herself, "you just go about your duties, don't mind me." Narza looked at her for a long minute, then shrugged. He turned to Cardes, bowing deeply, the Benevolent deigned to smile at him.

"My Lord, I'll see to it that you'll hear of our resounding victory quite soon." Cardes chuckled, with a flick of his wrist he dismissed his new disciple. On his way out, Nalmika gave him a look like a kicked puppy. Silently she mouthed an 'I'm sorry', well she _had_ made him reek of sweat after all. Then as he left the throne room, Feeva gave him that dejected look again.

"Narza," he stopped, looking at her, "I'm so sorry…" Again? What had _she _done? Regardless, Narza didn't have the time.

He had a war to win.

…..

"What have you done!?" The god looked down on Nalmika with half lidded eyes, clearly displeased at the address.

"'Hello', 'How are you?', 'How's your health?'. All of these, are acceptable, but no, you would choose, to begin our first conversation, in well over a year, on such a negative note. But that's fine, I'm in a good mood, a very, good mood, so I'll start. Hello Nalmika, how are you?"

"Terrible," she responded flatly, drawing herself up with as much dignity as a sweating, tear-streaked, hole riddled goddess could have.

"I get, the distinct impression, that you're mad at me. Oh, I get it! You just saw your sister, you look good, you've come away, looking worse."

"Yes well, our meeting was cut short rather abruptly."

"Ah yes, I thought, that I heard a crash, though there are so many, noises here everyday. Whatever prompted that?"

"Oh nothing out of the usual, except of course for the fact that she informed me, you'd be attempting to make Narza a DISCIPLE!"

"You sound perturbed, but I'm not one, to pick up on such things. I think that, he will make, a fabulous disciple, I would've thought, that you'd be happy, is it because, it's your old position? Jealousy, doesn't suit you, Nalmika."

"He could have DIED!"

"But he didn't," Cardes examined the back of his hand, bored of the conversation, Nalmika balled her fists at her sides.

"He didn't….he didn't even...I.."

"What, did you expect him, to throw you down, and ravage you, right on my throne room floor?" He smiled a lecherous smile, Nalmika tried her damnedest to burn a hole between his eyes with her stare. "I vaguely recall, that you used to be, a joy, to make these jokes with. I must be thinking, of someone else." More of that stare, he brushed a lock of hair away from his face, good, maybe it was working. He sighed, relenting. "I spoke with him, awhile back, and I told him then, that his emotions, only made him weak."

"Which is ridiculous, after all he's done and you would just-"

"I was referring to you."

"Decry him as use….what?"

"Oh Nalmika, did you think, that I was speaking about his fear, of the war? No no no dear, every great general, faces fear, but they overcome it, like any opponent. Love though, men do stupid things, for a woman, who makes his heart, beat faster for more than a fleeting second. I can't have my disciple, throwing himself away, nor any of our forces, merely to defend you, as you know, he will."

"So you would sacrifice our happiness for the sake of sparing resources!?

"I cannot weigh, any two people, over the gravity, of this war, and besides, he doesn't remember, a single detail, of your little tryst. I don't need him suicidal, and you have, an eternity, to move past it."

"You...mon-"

"Do NOT, call me, a monster!" Cardes' anger flared, his power manifesting itself as that fell avatar of his for the briefest moment before he regained control. "If you would maintain these useless affections, then you will fight, to the fullest, of your abilities, and if you both, endure this war, then you will, be full well able, to rediscover, whatever it is, you both had." And there it was, even when Cardes scattered an entire board full of pieces in spite, he never let them sit idle, even a broken pawn would find new purpose beneath his careful movements. Nalmika had nearly forgotten how Cardes was, it was because of this that the Palace was a viper's den, and now she had to plunge right back into it. She could only hope that she was prepared.

"Lord Cardes, I have...a suggestion," she began, a devious plan springing to life on her lips.

"Oh? Enlighten me."

"I believe it will be in your best interest, to send Tora to fight alongside Narza." Well, she definitely had his attention, his eyes burned red as his avatar sprung to life, it's massive horned skull drawn with passive fury.

"Nalmika, you choose, your next words, very carefully. You tell me, to send my flesh, and my blood, into the cesspit, of Grand Gaia, to spill blood, and potentially have hers, spilled in reply? I trust, that you have ample, reason, to suggest this." Nalmika grinned, it was her own sister's devilish grin.

"I've been thinking, between her power, and the blade given her by Maxwell, that she has the capacity to perform the Rite of Withered Souls, fueled by the blood of men slain in war."

"To what end, would you have me, send my daughter, to perform the arcane, in the hope of withering, a _plant_?"

"Not some mere plant my Lord, the World Tree." She had him, the sheer implications of the humans losing the one pillar that sustained all life on the planet, the one cradle of Maxwell's power that remained, sustaining the world, if any number of battles could see the ritual performed, then it was a risk Cardes would gladly take. "Narza devotes himself to the service of the gods, if she were to find herself in danger, he will be by her side in a moment, she will be safe."

"You raise, a tempting point, dear Nalmika. I shall speak, with my daughter. You never truly, lost that zest, did you? What heights, could be lain low, were you and Tora, to cooperate, I wonder?"

"Well keep wondering sunshine," a smile rose to Nalmika's lips that she'd not known for hundreds of years, the smile of a plan come full to bear. Cardes shared it, he'd know, the bastard had known that her rage would push her to brilliance, most likely directed either at him or Tora, he just hadn't known how. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go fetch my shoes, and maybe I'll let Tora know of her new task while I'm there."

…..

"Rowgen."

"Reporting," the sniper rasped, a single violet eye intent, trained upon Narza and patiently awaiting instructions.

"You are our eyes, you will identify and eliminate any targets you deem vital or dangerous, barring such, you will disorient them, they execute a charge, you eliminate the spearhead, they start to rally against an attack, you kill the instigator, where there is someone who instills order, you shall instill chaos in their ranks."

"Aye, Thorne shall see to it that the deed is done sire."

"Kuda," the bronze-skinned assassin merely nodded, his eyes sharp, professional. "Your targets have been lain out, you shall advance our armies, we shall move on the death of one of their generals." Kuda nodded, taking his leave immediately to prepare for his infiltration of the enemy ranks during the night.

"Tia."

"Sire?" The green haired girl answered swiftly, battle ready atop the great grizzly she sat upon.

"You shall head a charge, one of every creature you can call to your aid. It shall be an attack none will anticipate, it will break their ranks and force a retreat."

"They're good as dead," she replied darkly, determination flashing in her eyes.

"Ulkina."

"A...aye?" The purple haired witch was without a doubt the least experienced of the lot, but he would put her to good use.

"You will be serv-"

"I'm a healer sir! It.." he stared at her, she became conscious of the fact that she'd interrupted, she squirmed beneath those haunting red eyes, she didn't remember them being red. In her fear she found herself continuing to speak, "It's all I'm good at really, cauterizing wounds, getting men back on their feet, it's um...yeah." He smiled at her, though whether that was a comfort or just eerie was beyond her.

"Yes well, we've enough healers dear," they didn't, and everybody besides Ulkina knew it, but the Gods Army wasn't meant to endure the war, their lives not meant to be prolonged artificially by magic, that was the ultimate goal after all. "No, I'm going to be putting your powers to a different use, you are going to get a bird's eye view of the battlefield from your broom, and lash out with your fire magic from on high." The girl looked at him, confused.

"But my flames don't damage people, they only heal."

"Ah, but the enemy doesn't know that Ulkina, you throw fire at a man, his instinct is to run, not catch it. You rain fire on an army, they flee, they do not embrace it."

"You seem utterly captivated with the idea of scaring people off, 'King' Narza, but very little of your plan seems to involve killing I find." Kuhla, as short as her temper and potentially the most dangerous of any of them, Narza smiled warmly at her.

"Ah Kuhla, and that's where you come in, I shall be commanding and rallying our forces such that the enemy can flee nowhere but towards the sea. We shall smash them against it, and you will see to it that they are flooded out, thoroughly destroyed, routed from behind. Once we control the continent, we advance from there, and the force at Erinecht Plains is our only true obstacle. Are we all clear?"

"Aye," they responded in unison.

"Well then," Narza turned, walking to the balcony, he surveyed the armies below from on high, all assembled, awaiting his signal, half a million men and beasts, ready and willing to die for the gods, all a sea of the six colors of the Kingdoms, bearing the banners all displaying a ring of six crystals, each a different color representing the kingdoms, the banner of the Gods Army. Many of them were staring intently, having anticipated him coming out, eagerly awaiting his signal. He raised his hands, bringing any conversations below swiftly to silence.

"GODS AND GODDESSES!" Narza had to keep himself from scowling at the sentence, even as the crowds below erupted into cheers. Lord Cardes has taken it upon himself to bless the forces of the Gods Army, making them all 'gods' and 'goddesses' without giving any real power. He'd told Narza that it raised morale, Narza had argued that it would raise the morale of the humans more, they'd go around boasting like idiots that they'd killed countless hundreds of 'gods'. But, Cardes actually was a god, so here they were. "TODAY MARKS THE BEGINNING OF THE END OF THE HUMAN RESISTANCE! OUR FORCES SHALL ONLY GROW STRONGER AS TIME GOES ON, AND THEIRS WILL ONLY CRUMBLE BENEATH OUR RELENTLESS POWER!" More cheers, he was pleased, an orator he wasn't, but perhaps their bloodlust would overshadow the fact. "THE GODS DEMANDED RESPECT, AND HUMANITY FAILED TO DELIVER, SO TODAY, WE BRING RETRIBUTION, REFORMATION THROUGH FLAME!" Even now he could see they were restless, not spellbound as any speaker worth his salt would have them at war, he needed it concise. "SO NOW WE GO, TO LAY WASTE TO THE FORCES OF LIZERIA THAT STILL STAND AGAINST US! WE MARCH FOR THE ERINECHT PLAINS, FOR THE TEN!"

"FOR THE TEN!" The armies raised his call, drawing his sword, he pointed it towards the gates of the city, and his armies surged forward, beginning their march towards true war, to their first true battle.

….

Narza eyed the guest in his tent warily, the crimson lock of hair on his head pestering him incessantly, he pulled it back behind his ear, never turning his eyes.

"Why do I feel like I hate you Tora?" The disciple glanced up from filing her nails with that knife of hers only long enough to make eye contact, then resumed the task.

"Perhaps you're envious. I have so many desirable traits after all, beauty, intelligence, power, security, divinity, honor, the list goes on." Narza scrunched his eyebrows together, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, a vein standing stark red against his pale forehead.

"I think that-"

"Oh yes and how could I ever forget about dignity? Honestly, you and my sister, of all the qualities to lack."

"Nalmika?"

"Oh right, I'd forgotten, you wouldn't know about that." The pretentious, knowing grin on her face set Narza's vision red, there was something deeper to it than that, something primal to his hatred, he just didn't know what it was.

"You seem to forget your place here Tora."

"Oh?" Her eyebrow arched, the filing stopped, he'd struck something, good.

"Yes indeed Tora, you see, divinity, power, intelligence, these now are mine as well, we are merely both the knights to the same god, you are not so much above me any longer, and I command these forces, not you, so stay your tongue, lest it find you cut from the fold."

"You..._DARE, _speak to me like that? Of all the apes that came before you, why do you survive!? First Cardes, then Nalmika, I will not be made a fool of now by _you_!"

"Well that has yet to be established honestly, only time will tell." Narza's lips twitched slightly in delight as he saw the fury light in her eyes.

"I will end you, you filthy, bleeding mortal!" She grit her teeth in rage. Narza was across the room in the time it took her to blink, baring down on her, blade drawn and planted in the earth in front of her. Her eyes, brimming with disgust and fury met by Narza's, who held her gaze with an arrogant smirk, daring her to make a move. She held his gaze, hands clenching, it was so very tempting a prospect to slide in the knife, it would be effortless, she would end him in an instant, and her vengeance upon Nalmika would come full circle. But then suddenly, her hard expression eased, a delicious thought coming to her. He was so very close, baring down on her, dwarfing her, he was powerful, admittedly not bad looking, full of a sudden rush of piss and vinegar it seemed.

It excited her.

And he had no recollection of his time spent with her sister, war was a lonely time, and what better way to vent out war's frustrations than by loosing oneself upon a hated associate? She could have him...and oh, when her sister got word… she giggled giddily at the delightful idea. Narza frowned at the action, anticipating more anger, arrogance, something, but not this. He shifted away from her before she could attempt anything, returning to his cot on the other end of the tent.

Oh but now she had the idea in her head.

"Sire!" A soldier entered, a small scroll clutched tight in his hand. He glanced between Narza and Tora, who was absently toying with the hem of her dress, he blushed slightly. "Er, apologies my liege, I'd no idea you had a lady present."

"Bah," Narza waved it off, "she's no lady."

"I'm a _goddess_ you dunce," she countered, peeved.

"I...I'd not known you to speak so plainly of the gods sire."

"Hmm," Narza cupped his chin in a hand, cocking his head slightly, "neither have I, I suppose it's a recent development then, curious. Regardless, what news have you to report?"

"O-Oh yes, well sir, we have a correspondence from Sir Kuda sire, information regarding the enemy's forces I believe, it just came in by pigeon." Narza brightened instantly, a smile crossing his face as he snatched the note from the man's hand, unfurling the paper and quickly scanning its contents, before crumpling the sheet, delighted. Tora raised an eyebrow in curiosity at the sudden joy scrawled in Narza's face.

"So what does your pet assassin have to say about the band of monkeys Lizeria's dredged up?"

"They've been divided along the lines of four divisions, each headed by former low ranking La Vedan generals, the-"

"Oh? You missed a few?" Tora snickered as the happiness was dashed from Narza's expression, what was it about the man that was so delightfully satisfying to taunt? He continued, unabated.

"Evidently their armies were only assembled a scarce month ago, so their forces lack discipline."

"But so do yours," she reminded him. He grit his teeth, she was right of course, but he wouldn't admit it, so he merely grunted in reply.

"Aye, but for now we have the advantage of numbers, with any luck, our men will keep themselves alive and they'll learn the tactics they'll need to survive and win this war, learn to work together, fight better, and do so quicker. The Six Kingdoms haven't seen war in years, the other armies won't be so full of seasoned veterans. For now, all we need to do is focus on keeping half a million alive and kicking, and they'll win this war. So tell me Tora, I don't believe that you know a thing about military tactics, so why did Lord Cardes send you with me?"

"That's a choice piece of information oh king, and I don't believe you've any need to know, now, if you'll excuse me, I've sleep to catch up on." Feigning a yawn, Tora willed a patch of grass and feather-soft flowers to spring to life on the plot of earth beneath her, stretching groggily, a single eye stealthily panning over Narza, whose burning red eyes were drawn with rage, so he was the kind of person who liked knowing everything, no secrets, oh they'd get along like fire and oil the two of them.

"Tell me Tora, how much of a fighter are you?" She grumbled slightly, still feigning sleep, he rolled his eyes at her.

"What are you on about?"

"Fie-ting, the act wherein you attempt to stick the pointy end of the knife into someone and they try the same to you. I feel like this is a new concept to you, am I wrong?"

"Oh go to hell you insolent brute," she growled, sitting up to glare daggers at him. He chuckled. Had he just gotten her to abandon a ploy? Sure it was a poor one, but still, nobody did that.

"Sincerest apologies my dear, but you aren't quite my kind of woman." Tora's face grew hot, she'd never known someone quite so readily find retorts to her, it was irritating. "So what your dodging has told me, is you've come into my midst, seeking to share my command tent, in the midst of war, on a mission to do literally Cardes-knows-what, and you don't even know how to defend yourself…" Tora was prepared to spit back at him, enraged, but she stopped herself. _No, don't give him the satisfaction_. "Alright, well then, if that's the case then let's teach you, take up your knife." Tora gave him a blank stare, not fully understanding.

"What?" He rolled his eyes again. _What!? It was a confusing order...wait...he just gave me an order!? _

"Grab the knife, and stab me with it." _What? Wait….what? _

"What?"

"You're not terribly bright when taken out of your element are you? Alright, here, I'll show you." He took a firm grip of the hilt of the Dawn Blade and held it out to her. Eyeing him warily, she reached up with both hands to grasp the knife, and immediately he began chuckling. "You don't, oh gods," he paused a moment, chest heaving as he sought to regain his breathing, his smile cracking past the edges of the hand he held to his mouth. "You don't even know how to wield a knife properly." She wasn't? What, was she meant to hold it in one hand? She'd drop it! "Well come on, you've got a free shot, stab me." He was crazy, the power had crippled his mind, that had to be it. But she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to take a stab. She raised both arms, clasping the knife, it shifted slightly in her hands, causing her to fumble with it. Narza's hand shot up, plucking the blade from between her fingers, his strength allowing him to do so effortlessly, she blinked, suddenly deprived of any defense. "Now imagine for a moment, that I'd not been standing still, instead coming down on you, weapon drawn, air filled with the despairing cries of mortal men slain as the crash of steel strives to crowd it out." Tora looked up at him, eyes wide as he dangled the knife dangerously close to her, she gulped. "So, I'll try this again, why are you here?" But his words fell on deaf ears, Tora's wide blue eyes passing right through him, unblinking.

Had she really never used the knife? Of course that was the point, but had she really never even wielded it? Never tried to learn how to defend herself if need be? Gods, how much did Cardes actually keep her during all the meetings with those other gods? Sure she had her powers to manipulate plants, but she could never divide her attention well enough to use them in any fight beyond single combat.

"Lord Cardes has requested that I be present to perform a blood ritual, one that will demand untold sacrifices to complete." Had he actually just gotten her to divulge that? Who _was_ this man?

"Interesting," he commented casually, "how many sacrifices?"

"A massacre's worth." Narza chuckled at this, amused.

"And the purpose of it?"

"The ritual destroys the life force of an individual, completely, utterly snuffed out, irretrievable." She tensed for the next question, she couldn't help it, it irked her so much! Narza eyed her curiously.

"Who's the target?"

"Need-to-know Narza," she replied in a sing-song manner, a bit too quickly though.

"So you haven't been told." The matter-of-factness of it caused Tora to slump. It crushed her that Cardes withheld anything from her, least of all this.

"Now, I'll see to it that you get your sacrifices," he continued, breezing right past it. What, wasn't he going to dig into her? Any god would leap at the chance to salt a wound and exploit a weakness, what was wrong with him? "Just stay your nose from my business, and stay ba-gah!" Narza doubled over suddenly, clutching his head with both hands, the knife tumbling from his hands to land on the grassy knoll Tora had conjured. The disciple, unsure of what was occurring, merely watched him in fascinated horror.

Narza gasped, his eyes bloodshot, burning, his teeth grinding with the pain. He felt constrained, crowded in, like he was being pressed into a cage, his muscles bound, knotting, burning. It reminded him of Luther's powers when he'd bound Narza the day they'd first met...gods, had it really only been three days now? Only now, in place of a valley of fire and death, he saw the Six Kingdoms, side by side, all ablaze, old stone walls dilapidated, seared black. Corpses by the thousands, with just as many manner of wounds; decapitations, clean wounds through the heart or the skull, deep rifts all over the body, blood flowing in rivers, bullets still buried in chests, bodies charred to crisp husks. Crows by the millions painted the sky black and the grounds red with blood and innards as they pecked out the entrails of the fallen.

Turning his head down, he found himself bound to a board, those very same crows that dotted the sky shredding into his body, veins bursting beneath their clamping beaks, their claws biting into his heart, anchoring them to his chest. He screamed and a dozen of them were on him, pecking at his face, puncturing his cheeks, attacking him for daring to cry out, daring to disturb their feast. Through all the spraying black feathers and droplets of ruby blood, Narza made out a singular, pitch black raven, it's eyes like deep sunken black voids, pits of hatred. It's steel gray beak like a razor edged blade, it opened its beak and let forth an ear-splitting cry, so frightfully loud that the crows covering him all tore off into the sky, ferrying leftover scraps of flesh and meat with them. The raven lunged forward, that razor sharp beak cutting straight down into the meat of his shoulder. His mouth opened, hanging slack, a silent roar perched on his tongue, but it felt as though that beak stretched down through his lung, driving the air straight out, leaving him speechless. His eyes slammed shut, but he felt those black eyes, burning through his eyelids.

He shuddered, eyes fluttering open. He was in the tent. Oh gods he was still just in the tent. He was on his knees, gasping his breath out even as ice cold sweat beaded down his flesh. Tora was staring at him, they were eye level now, and those cold blue eyes seemed terrified, her hands were trembling, she was looking down at his shoulder. The knife was buried there, biting into his shoulder, it had gone straight through his armor, how had it done that? He was sure he could feel it, but his entire body still sang bloody murder at the phantom crows, overshadowing anything the knife might've been doing. He looked at her, chest heaving with exertion, and smiled a weak smile.

"Now that's...ah hell," he spat a clot of blood at the ground, "that's better, when next, I see a man go mad, I'll send them your way." His vision was swimming, everything burned, his heart was pounding, all very familiar sensations, but what prompted them?

"What in the black hells was that!?" Narza grimaced, staring down at his hands, bunched like mangled claws, and shuddered.

"I don't know, That was a bit of a new one for me." But just from the way her face shifted, from confusion, to shock, to horror, Narza knew that she understood exactly what he was going through, but she wasn't about to tell him. He hardly had the capacity to care as he collapsed to the ground, prying the knife from his shoulder. It felt scorching as it passed through his skin, slamming it into the ground, he balled his fists, pounding the earth in frustration at the non-existent pain, and the very real pain that was now flaring in his shoulder.

"Oh spare me your theatrics," Tora demanded, exasperated. After a moment though, her eyes still filled with that same horror, she sighed, "you look like a puppy." With a wave of her hands, a length of vines sprang from the earth, barely as wide as a pinky, all lined with thorns. It wrapped tightly around his waist, piercing through his armor and digging into his hips. He gasped, shaking as the thorns forced his entire body to a state of numbness. "Now, both Cardes and I are going to be very cross if by morning you aren't over this and moving again. Honestly, how did you every survi-" and the rest of her rant was lost as Narza's vision blackened, and he passed out.

…

"Oi, what's the mattah Kuda?" The purple-haired soldier turned to the man beside him, Wilhelm he believed.

"Oh nothing, just waiting for Haething to drop off his damn horse."

"Yeah, he's really shoutin' 'is 'ead off ain't he?" Wilhelm chuckled.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sure." The poison wasn't working correctly, the fat oaf of a general was busy with his speech turning him red as a beet, not swaying at all as he should be by now. So he'd given too little, small matter, the leaves he'd put into the horse feed should only take slightly longer…

As Haething reached a new height of volume, his horse finally dropped, its legs failing and dropping the beast to the ground. Kuda grinned as it occurred to him that one of their cavalry units just got a very nasty surprise. The man shouted out, all stunned, confused, frightened with the enemy within sight.

"Oi Kuda! don't you work wif dem 'orses?"

"Aye, get moving! You lot, make way!" Kuda put on his very best expression of shock as he pushed through their ranks towards the general. He finally pushed free of the throng, approaching the fallen general and placing a hand to his neck, making a show of searching for a pulse. The contact poison on his glove began to work its magic straight away, causing the muscles in Haething's neck to convulse, spreading down through the rest of his body, each limb giving a little twitch, and coursing up to his skull. His neck swung sideways quite violently, his beady green eyes glazed over and his tongue lolled out slightly, Kuda smirked, but he smothered it, re-assuming the face of shock and despair.

"He...he's dead! Oh gods, he's dead! And the horse's too! Dammit, who's gone near my horses!?" The men all shuffled in a mute frenzy at his words, despairing, eyeing one another like madmen, all suddenly suspicious of their neighbors, very, very good. "Ah hells, where's the second in command!?"

"Officer Goltovah's nowhere to be seen sir," one of the men shouted, Kuda had to muster all his willpower to not burst out laughing.

"THEY'RE CHARGING!" Turning on his heel, Kuda saw that the Gods Army was in fact now on the move, rapidly approaching from across the plains, their fierce cries ringing clearly even through the crowded shouts of their own army. That was Kuda's cue to cut and run, he made a show of hopping from foot to foot, eyes glued to the approaching forces.

"SHIT! I'm outta here!" And true to his word he took off, making sure to slam into several soldiers along the way, scaring the shit out of them, he didn't even need to conceal his laughter as he heard a number of them start screaming and running off behind him. One general down, three to go.

…..

"Shit, Narza's a savage." Rowgen muttered to himself as he trained his sights on the silver-haired king, watching the blur that was Narza weaving gracefully between the ranks of the resistance, cutting down countless dozens of soldiers that wouldn't blink at a charging warrior but who were struck wide-eyed with fear at the sight of the bloody, crazed swordsman appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye. He was carving small openings amidst enemy ranks seemingly at random, forcing the resistance to split up their forces, seek to fill in the gaps, but no matter what there were openings, weak points that could be driven into. He had moved ahead of the entirety of the army, and that had to be the most impressive part about Narza, fearless the man assaulted the enemy armies when his own army was still several minutes out.

Rowgen himself had opted for an observation point atop a hill relatively close by at the proximity of a mile and a half away. He smiled, enjoying his perch, he didn't even have to wear his earplugs to drown out any sounds, from his position it was merely a peaceful Karna day evening. As the Gods Army troops approached the enemy ranks, Rowgen watched several clusters begin to surge forward to meet them, others forming up, seeking to absorb the shock of the charge. He laid his bullets out within easy grabbing range and started picking people off.

…

Narza shot through the enemy like an angel of death, reaping a bloody harvest through their disoriented lines. He'd dashed ahead of his forces to strike while the enemy was merely anticipating the assault. Flesh and steel parted beneath his blade like butter, accompanied by the astonished cries of the dying and those now marked for death alike. He'd appear in an open cluster of soldiers, lop off a head or two, and dash off, he was a blur, materializing before a man and tearing his heart out of his chest before they'd even taken a breath.

The red lock of hair had returned with a vengeance, his vision even blotted out by the blood that jettisoned from fresh corpses. The blood was warm, drying to his hands and crusting over in an all too familiar way. His blood soaked, bloodthirsty visage struck terror into the hearts of the Lizerian resistance. The La Vedan King, the Mad King, as they so liked to call him, was exacting his justice. He appeared before the center of the Southern Division as he heard his men arrive and crash into the enemy's charge. There was a wide berth here, given to what could only be the general of the division, perhaps even the army itself given the luxurious position, buttressed by three buffer forces before the enemy would reach here. Looking forward, Narza's eyes fixated on the general, he snarled baring teeth all speckled with flecks of blood.

"YOU!" He and the general both cried.

"Couldn't have done us a favor and died off, gone to a farm in the countryside even, dammit Will, down to the last you will defy the gods!?" The teal haired traitor could only stare at him, a disapproving sneer on his face, like a parent dealing with a rebellious child, insolence!

"You murdered the king Narza, and usurped his throne, you've made a mockery of La Veda and its once proud knighthood, you've given all that up to be the lapdog of the gods." He was still suited in the armor, he still dared to bear the mantle of the gods, even as he fought and shed their blood, Narza would make him pay dearly.

But then, before any such vengeance could be exacted, Narza suddenly collapsed to his knees, crying out. He clutched at his head, nails digging into the supple flesh of his temples. It burned, oh but it was the barest of sweet reliefs from the hot coal burning in his brain. _Of all the times for this!_ He could make out the shape of Will before him, but it was distorting, stretching, turning black and sinister, morphing into something unsettling...evil. Forgetting his blade, Narza lunged, ramming a fist with all the force of a disciple of Cardes into Will's chest, who had no time to prepare, and took the blow, crunching metal shooting into his chest as his armor buckled inward. He coughed, dropping to his knees, no air left to mutter a curse at Narza, even as the king's mind burned out, and he collapsed at his old enemy's feet.

….

"Ah hells, what in the name of the Ten is he doing?" Rowgen lined up his scope with the general, swearing as he saw the predicament Narza had landed himself in. The king had gone right up to the general, paying no heed of the men surrounding him. They were stayed by the general's hand it seemed, he goes, Narza goes, not worth it. But even the general's command was small matter to soldiers, who could see the leader of their opponent's entire army prostrate at their feet. Several began advancing, blades drawn, ready to put him down. Moving quickly, Rowgen swung the barrel of Thorne to bear, the red laser flickering to life, humming as he lined it up with one of the men.

Thorne roared, and a soldier dropped dead. The rest of the men faltered, Rowgen pulled another round into place, gunning down another, and another, until they finally stood frozen around the fallen king. He racked his brain, they weren't going to scatter with only one man dying at a time, not with so great a force present.

"Rowgen!"

"Bitchin', cavalry's here," Ulkina came to a stop, hovering her broom beside him on his little knoll, he waved at her happily, glad for the backup. "Ulkina! Narza's in some shit, surrounded, need you to chase those bastards off him." She nodded, zipping away on that broom of hers in the direction he pointed without a second thought, he smiled, they'd make a warrior out of her yet.

…

"What in the hell? What's wrong Narza? God give you a migraine?" Will laughed, rasping as he was still attempting to recover his breath. "Alright men, get this one clamped in irons, we'll see what the 'gods' will have to say then."

"But sah! You sore 'im, 'e'll find a way out and keep killin', we should put 'im down 'ere an now!"

"And then he lives on a martyr to their cause, no, we chain him up."

"I'm sorry sir, but this monster killed me brother, I say, it's well past time what we respond in kind."

"No! Belay that, that's an order," Will was shouting now, his breath returning, he thrust out a hand to his men to gain their attention, and then one of their heads suddenly exploded.

"What the hell! Has the enemy found u-aAAAH!" Another man's head ruptured, spraying blood and brain out in all directions, the men covered their mouths in disgust. Will was left speechless, hopelessly stuttering as his men froze up. Narza was stirring, and he tried to command them once more to restrain him, but the words wouldn't come.

"You see!? He'll find a way to get right back to killing, I'm not taking any chances here! Rot in hell you bastard!" A man was hovering over Narza, broadsword in hand. Then his head burst, and Will's men started going ballistic.

"Commander Will! We got incoming!" Will looked up in the direction his men were pointing, and there was what looked like a young girl approaching, and she was flying!

"ARCHERS! TAKE IT DOWN!" He heard the satisfying hiss of about a hundred bows being drawn.

Then the girl was on fire.

A wicked cackling filled the air as she began laughing, the men wavered, limbs leaden with fear, Will couldn't help but notice how many bows weren't being fired at the moment. The girl raised a hand skyward, conjuring an immense ball of fire the size of a wagon, and with another shrill howl of laughter, she threw it.

Will found himself lost amid his own men, who were suddenly running all scattered like flies, screaming in terror, fear for their own lives overpowering whatever small bonds they'd formed with the men around whom they'd spent barely three months with now. He was grabbed by either arm and hoisted to his feet by his soldiers, hurried along through the havoc of men fleeing from the attacker. Will shouted until his voice was hoarse to try and rally them all again, but he watched as his chain of command swiftly dissolved before his very eyes as the witch rained fire upon them. He watched as Narza's body was consumed, lost amidst the flames, disappearing within those raging gold lights, and he didn't know how to feel, but didn't have time to decide. A steady stream of fire was poured down upon them. It was curious, there was no smoke, but it _was _magic, he'd be lying if he understood the barest lick of how it worked.

"Sir, he's DEAD! We need to move NOW!" And so Will followed the directing of his men, able to stand on his own face, barely even noticing the pain in his chest as the rush of the moment overtook him. He'd been located, and he needed to get away from the immediate danger, sure, retreat was one thing, but the death of a general could hurt even more. They ran through the sounds of war, of men screaming and fighting valiantly, and dying like flies, dropping like sacks of stones, no hero's deaths, getting killed by a blade through the heart and then having their corpses stomped to a bloody pulp beneath the rushing boots of the enemy charge. They weren't going to win this battle, hell, nobody knew what these forces were capable of except the gods, they might not even win the war with powers and savagery like this. He couldn't just get out of immediate danger, he needed to _leave_.

"We need to go!" He shouted to the men around him.

"Yes we know that sir, she won't follow us over here, too close to the water, and the area's too heavily fortified."

"No no no, WE need to LEAVE!"

"S...sir, you don't mean...you're not suggesting we abandon them!? Sir that's far too drastic, I don't think we can-"

"Dammit man! We aren't going to win this! We need to get out, tell the other kingdoms to prep for war, they have no idea what they're up against. They'll be overrun if we don't get out and inform them."

"But the kingdom's have real armies sir, they can support themselves."

"Soldier, so far we've seen a _child_, that can torch an entire position within seconds, a man that can move faster than you can blink and kill you twice as fast, and someone capable of killing from anywhere it seems, these are three people, they are powerful, the kingdoms won't stand a chance without knowledge of their enemy."

"Damn….he's right Leo."

"But we can't just.."

"Leo, shut the hell up and get the rest of the squad!" Will was adamant now, and the look on his face told them all they needed, he hated it as much as they did, but it was what they needed to do.

"Buh...gah, fuck it, SIR!"

…

Narza blinked awake, groaning at the harsh, resonating pain in his head. Picking himself up off the ground, he wiped away a layer of dirt and grit, regaining his bearings. Will was nowhere in sight, the ground around him was wreathed in flames, yet he was unharmed, at least so far as he could tell. He reached a tentative hand out to the flames, they felt cold, soothing, easing the tension in his muscles and the pain in his head. So Ulkina had chased them off, good.

All around the small clearing he saw that his men were pushing the enemy back with great success, they were rapidly gaining ground, and the resistance knew it, which only made them gain ground faster. Off to his right, the eastern flank was in a full retreat as they were swarmed by a charging herd of massive bears, all bellowing their rage into the sky. To his left, Ulkina was zooming about, spraying gouts of flame to the ground. The Lizerians pulled back in fright from the attack, and broke into an all out run when they watched the Gods Army charge through them, unharmed. It seemed Will was doing a horrendous job of rallying the troops, excellent.

Collecting his weapon from the ground, he began the trek of carving through a line of troops to reach the eastern hilltop, where Kuhla would be awaiting his command. Sure enough he found her there, accompanied by her small command of five men; he'd taken measures to ensure her safety, she would be vital in the battles to come.

"Your majesty," she greeted none too eagerly, barely a nod in his direction. The men around her shifted uncomfortably.

"Lady Kuhla, the moment of your triumph draws nigh," he informed her with a bow, ensuring that he dropped the 'your' just to stroke her ego a bit. It worked, her hard expression softening into a self-satisfied smile.

"Good, I've grown tired of waiting for _your _forces," he resisted the urge to snap at her, biting his tongue, they needed her, after all. Looking down over the field, it was like a shepherd herding his cattle, their forces penning in the enemy, pressing them up against the ocean. Glancing over to Kuhla, Narza gestured with his hand as if to say, 'after you'.

With a gruesome smile, she raised her staff overhead, waving it about in an erratic movement, and the very seas seemed to boil and dance at her command. It turned and churned, frothing like a beast possessed, smashing against the shores, then withdrawing. The retreating force wavered, unsure of the sudden raging seas, and the Gods Army merely kept charging, pushing them farther.

Kuhla was teasing them, it was cruel, yet oddly delightful to watch. Then with one grand sweeping motion that seemed to take titanic effort from her, the ocean _surged_. It crushed against the Lizerians, sweeping them all together in moments, leaving the Gods Army largely untouched, the girl was precise. Men weighted down by armor and weaponry were left unable to fight free of the all consuming will of the sea, ferried off before they could take another breath. Their screams all reached a glorious crescendo for all of a moment, and then blissful silence, as the waters retreated, ferrying them all to an eternal slumber beneath the waves. The entire thing had taken all of a minute, just like that, the fighting was over, they'd won!

Occasionally a hand would breach the surface of the waters, and Kuhla would thrust her hands downwards in frustration, and the soldiers would suddenly plunge back beneath the waves. Looking up, she pointed out towards the horizon, where the sun was just beginning to descend, its rays alighting upon a singular, lonely sloop, gently bobbing its way through the seas.

"Some of them escaped." She said simply, glancing at him, gauging for a reaction.

"A ghost crew they'll be, let them go and tell the world of what happened here, they'll all die eventually, let them live what lives they have left with fear in their hearts yes?" She shrugged, gesturing to her entourage to accompany her off the battlefield, but Narza held up a hand for her. "Actually Kuhla, could you, by chance, jostle the vessel a bit, fling one or two off, we don't want them getting comfortable." He loved the devious smile that crossed her face, she bowed low, and the boat suddenly shot a few feet clear of the water as a mighty wave shot up from the calm surface, two small specks flying from its surface, consumed by the waters. "Excellent show Kuhla, the gods will be pleased."

"Eh, whatever," she waved it off, uncaring for the praise of the 'gods' as she left. Narza sighed, smiling to himself, one battle down, now they hunkered down, and tore the nation apart for lumber, they'd need transport ships for a force this large. They'd take it to Sama, and when that was theirs, so would the most feared navy in all of Grand Gaia, then nobody would be safe.

"Narza." The king dug his nails into the flesh of his palms, a cool rage passing through him.

"Luther." The Destroyer regarded him with that black-eyed gaze, professional for once, not antagonizing. Narza didn't trust it.

"I'm to deliver something to you, no games."

"Really? Truly Luther, you don't come to lob more insults, tell me of past exploits of butchery, mock that which I have achieved or the people whom I care about? Nothing at all?" Luther smiled, but it was a rueful smile, as if it pained him.

"Well, if you're really wondering, I'm a few hundred short of a million lives left to my price of freedom. But no, none of that, I've a far more expedient path to freedom, here." He held out his hand, it held a singular rose.

….

"Just a little farther men!" Will encouraged, his own lungs failing him even as his men heaved with exertion, they'd had to double time it from a number of small parties the enemy had deployed to eliminate stragglers, they were clever this Gods Army. "We've a ship prepped and ready, we'll set sail for Sama, the merchants there will ensure word travels quick."

"But sah, I ain't nevah sailed a boat 'afore."

"Well son, ya better damn well learn quick eh?" They all shared a laugh, it was a brief laugh, one cut short by shame, for to feel anything now but shame begot more, but it was something.

"Going somewhere gentlemen?" Will halted his men as a young girl appeared before them on the path. She was all dolled up and everything, flowers in her pretty green hair, and a knife slapped into her hand, one of the men voiced the mindset of all of them, doubling over in laughter as he approached her.

"Oh why aren't you just an adorable little thing dear? And what can _we _do for _you_?" The girl seemed suddenly unsure of herself, her fingers fiddling with the hilt of the weapon in her hand. Then quicker than any of them could react, she screamed, plunging the knife up into the man's throat, she kept screaming as she tore it out, then stabbed it back, this time into his eye, then his other eye, before planting a pointed heel into his forehead, and pushing him off the blade.

"What the! You little bitc-" With a scowl, she flicked her hand, a jagged green vine shot up from the ground beneath the man that yelled, impaling him through the base of the spine, quickly retreating back into the earth, leaving the man thrashing out about on the ground, frothing at the mouth. Well, they weren't smiling now.

"What do you want?" Will shouted, her eyes flashed and the ground burst, a wave of dirt flying up as thorned branches shot out, tangling and sharing each of the men in a makeshift cage.

"What do I want? I want answers," she responded casually, running the bloody knife casually along the back of her nails.

"What do I know that you could possibly want?"

"Oh I couldn't care less about you, but somebody does." Closing her eyes, paying no mind to the outraged shouts of Will's squad, she spoke.

"Lord Cardes." A bright blue fire thrummed to life before her, morphing to the shape of a squat, lanky man, his body drawn with intricate black lines, his eyes alone glowing a bright gold in the fire, he regarded the girl with a flat stare.

"Tora, my child, what do you need?" The Tora child regarded the specter with an angry gaze.

"I have here an assembly of soldiers prepped and ready for battle, equipped with a host of knowledge on our forces and tactics, they have a ship waiting for them to ferry them away, probably to Sama yes?" She directed that last question at Will and his men.

"Uhh, well, that was a possibil-"

"Sama, and so I'm weighing my options with them."

"Excellent," the specter replied, obviously delighted with the girl, "so just kill them and the element of surprise will remain ours."

"Oh I don't think so, you see Cardes, you've neglected to explain to me what I've been sent here to do, and I do NOT like to be left in the dark in anything, more specifically, matters that involve my direct physical presence. So now, these men's lives lay in your hands." Cardes leaned forward, eyes narrowing, traces of anger lacing into his expression.

"Whatever do you mean dear, simply kill them and be done with it."

"Well that's just it, 'father', you see, these men are going to be set free, unless you explain to me _exactly_ why I'm here, all you need to do, is tell me what I'm here for, and they die, it's simple." He growled, baring his teeth at her, not the type to like having something dangled beyond his reach.

"Daughter, do not test me in this."

"Oh? Try me, 'father'."

"Why…." he sighed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I was looking to avoid this conversation, I should have known better than to think my own flesh and blood too complacent. Very well, the objective of you being brought to a war zone, in performing the Rite of Withered Souls, is to destroy the World Tree. Now, kill these fools and be about it then."

Tora dropped her knife, and the cages retracted, dropping Will and his men in a clump.

"No."

"W...What!? You _dare_?"

"I do, if you think that I would abandon the only things that I truly care about in this world, the plants that have been with me since my birth, then you, Cardes, are sorely mistaken. There are many schemes that I will gladly dedicate myself to, but this is not one of them."

"I will NOT tolerate this..this, insubordination! If you would turn against me on this..I've no use for a disciple that would oppose me."

"Oh? And just what are you insinuating?"

"If you would go against me, and leave those fools with anything more than a single vein that remains attached to their mangled remains, then I would be forced to disown you, and have you branded a traitor." She didn't even hesitate.

"Well, you heard the man, you miserable apes are free to go. you have been released by Tora the Benevolent, daughter and disciple to Cardes the Malevolent, disciple no longer it should seem, now remove yourselves from my sight before I change my mind and have you shredded limb from limb."

"What is this insol-" Tora closed her fist, and Cardes vanished. She turned her frightening blue eyes upon Will, who gulped.

"Is it really so easy for you?" He asked her. She cocked her head, seeming a bit puzzled. "You and Narza, just, abandoning those you serve, betrayal."

"Fealty only to those who serve you, they betray your loyalty for thinking you any less than you are. Betrayal begets betrayal human. Now, I'm beginning to feel quite twitchy, I advise you leave." The men rose uncertainly, all quaking at the girl's very presence, eyeing her for any additional movement. "I can only hope that Zebra fares well in my stead," she muttered, tousling her hair with a far off look to her.

"Zebra?" Her eyes flashed, and a series of vines shot up, piercing the speaker's heart, dropping unceremoniously to the ground.

"Anyone else decided they're not old enough for stupid questions?"

They were gone in moments, only ten men remaining.

"Quite the show Tora, I'm impressed, most gods a hundred times your age never work up the stones to tell the old man off." Tora glared hellfire as Luther approached her. "I'd do it myself but, y'know, not eager to return to the void."

"Yes I'm aware of your end of the moral spectrum convict." She looked away from him, crossing her arms. "Now what is it you're looking to do here?"

"Well hello to you too dear Tora, I came because I was enjoying a lovely daytime stroll, and then I found you here, so I wanted to see the tigress outside of her cage, do we find beneath a wild beast? Or a house cat?"

"Really, so you _didn't _come here to get strung up by vines in every orifice and have the life bled out of you? Could've fooled me"

"Don't be like that, I'm trying to be nice here, it's far more difficult than I'd anticipated, how _do_ people do it?"

"Luther, I'm going to need to seek a place to bide my time, away from Narza, away from the gods, unless you've a way to assist with that then I suggest you stop wasting my time."

"It was you then."

"What are you-"

"You were the one that did it, you can't even look at me. You put me there, put the knife to my throat, Cardes spent all this time leading me to believe it was him, but YOU were the one. So what's your price?" She sneered at him, unconsciously smoothing out her dress. Gods, everything was falling apart.

"You want freedom?" She clenched her fists, none of her cards were worth anything now anyway, what the hell. "Here, you get one shot, I find out that you botch this, you're getting sent back." She held her hand out to him, a single rose clasped in her fingers. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. "Bring this to Narza."

…..

"Why Luther, I didn't figure you for the romantic type."

"Funny, that's exactly what I told Tora, almost cost me another half century in the void. No, this is from her, and she told me to deliver a message, if you'll take it." Narza blinked, ears a tad hot, a rose?

"What is it?"

"A rose," Luther grinned, Narza _had _walked into that one. "It's a peace offering." Reaching out, Narza took it, eyebrow cocked. "Ahem, 'Know who your allies are here Narza. Just because they fight with you, doesn't mean you fight for the same end. I'm sorry for what I've done, not that you'll understand, just survive all this. Do that, fight the madness that he planted in you, and when this war is over, give this to her, for the both of us.'" Luther stretched, cracking his neck, suddenly seeming youthful, liberated, joyous. "Ah, now THAT, feels better."

"Wait, 'he'? 'She'? Who is she referring to? What madness?" Narza was so hopelessly lost, but Luther only smiled and shook his head.

"Well I'm afraid I'm bound only by my word Narza, she said, that if you're worth half the salt she's told you are, you'll figure it out, and you'll find your peace. Until then, you're still a worthless ape." And with one final, dastardly smile and a snap of his fingers, Luther was consumed in flame, and vanished.

Narza stared, wide-eyed at the rose, it's rich red like blood. Who could she mean? What had he forgotten? What had he done?

Who did he lose?

Bah, no time for that. Time enough later, for now, there was war.

…

Tora sighed, creasing her forehead as she frowned, deep in concentration. The sun was cresting the horizon now, ready to dip below the waves to ferry the newly dead to their eternal resting place. Where would she go now? A goddess wouldn't be welcome anywhere, sure she could hide away as a plain child, nobody would suspect, but it would only be a temporary solution, the war would find her, and she would never degrade herself to such a level as mere peasantry.

Damn Cardes. Damn Nalmika, she _had _to be the reason for this, Cardes would never come up with a scheme like that. Damn Maxwell, planting a stupid tree with the power of gods-damned creation. Gods be damned.

"Lady Tora." She snapped out of her reverie, there was a knight before her. Honestly if it was another accursed hero-type come to 'slay' her, there would be _blood_.

"What is it?" She _really_ didn't have time for a fight, her head swam, it felt like the absolute worst hangover, everything was just, falling apart around her today. Maybe she _needed_ to kill a hero type today.

"I'm here on behalf of Lord Lucius." Well that had her going, her mind began racing trying to decipher it, so Lucius, was he looking for a disciple? No, that couldn't be it, he wasn't the type to take on an assistant. So he'd come to kill her then. Good. She had a knife and several thousand years of lost alliances and blackmail ruined to take out on him.

"Is that right…"

"Indeed, it's come to his attention that you are in need of asylum. My name is Ark, his disciple." Well then she was doubly wrong, that was happening far too often today.

"You're a human."

"Aye, and I suppose now I'm to live forever," he added with a friendly grin. A second human disciple….fucking…

"You know what? At this point, I'll believe anything. What's he offering?" Her mind was already in motion. Did he want a new underling? To spite Cardes? She could definitely do that, but what else could he be trying for? He couldn't kill her then, what did he intend to use her for?

Ark smiled, offering up his hand, she crinkled her nose, but accepted it. With his other hand, Ark produced a blazing ball of white light, and dropped it to the ground. The ball burst on impact, blinding Tora if only for a moment, and in its place, one of Lucius' precious rainbow gates.

"Just where am I being lead to?"

"A realm of demons, known as Ishgria. Rest assured though, a very secluded region, devoid of beasts, land yet unclaimed by the black curs, brimming with forests and wildlife. You'll be able to rest here while Lord Lucius arranges for your return."

"And just why would he help a heretic?"

"You can prove very, very useful to him in the not-too-distant future, favors for favors ma'am, I'm sure you can understand." She nodded, heart pounding, one allegiance to another then? Just like that? She glanced around her, taking in the landscape as the light slowly faded from it. War would soon ravage everything, she couldn't hide here, this was her only other choice. _Into the fire Tora_.

"Very well, open the gate."

***Tears***

Well, I've been anticipating the point when I could finally say that I had FINISHED a story, and Narza's of all of them, but it's got so much more gravity than I thought it would. It feels _incredible_ that I can finally say I brought a close to this. Narza was one of the first units that I really fell in love with, and he still is one of my favorites, it's a real shame that Gumi's explicitly stated that this batch won't be getting 7*s in the future, but y'know, they only have so much room for half-assed resurrections, lookin' at you Alice. But anyway, I do so very much hope that you all enjoyed the series. Also, I promised a few chapters ago that this series is going to be a springboard into another, and as promised, I plan to begin work on this new series, **The Battleground of the Disciples**, very soon. Until then, Good Day to you all, have a wonderful evening, and if you'd be so kind, I'd really appreciate you all taking a moment to leave your thoughts on the series.

Bye!


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